


You Are My Hero

by Madleane



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-23 22:10:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2557520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madleane/pseuds/Madleane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during U.S Grand Prix 2014 - Nico feels down after his DFN and Esteban is there to help. The question is - does the German really want to be helped?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lass uns ziehn mit dem Wind

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys! I'm new to this site and this is pretty much my first fanfiction ever. Also - English isn't my native language so please be understanding and enjoy :D

Nico shut the door with way more force than necessary and slid down the wall; resting his back against the cold surface.

_What a day…_

From the very beginning the race hadn’t gone as smoothly as he’d like it to be - starting from the 13th oddly turned out to be one of the highlights of the whole event. (Oh the irony! Not more than day ago he wouldn’t stop whining about the messed up quali…) It was right after the red lights out when the real hell broke loose. He started losing battles and was forced to give up one position after another. One piece of his pride at a time…

And even this didn’t last for too long since at some point the engine died completely and he had no other choice than to DNF and accept the failure.

Leaving the car on the track certainly wasn’t a pleasurable feeling, but it was nothing compared to what he had to face after that. _The walk_. It is a commonly accepted fact amongst drivers that there isn’t anything more humiliating and degrading than being forced to walk one’s way to the garage on their own.

And Nico hated it. He _hated_ it with a passion.

He buried his face in his hands, embarrassed since they were shaking involuntary. He could still feel all of those eyes burning on his back. Scornful rivals, disappointed fans… journalists like ravenous vultures… his mechanics… his family… Ah, there were so many people he let down today. He couldn’t stand facing them – but how could he? Everybody in the garage seemed so pissed off; frustrated… Both of Force India cars were out of US GP – and great part of it was entirely his fault.

But maybe it would be better if he acted differently. He should’ve made a joke out of it and chitchat a bit with everyone he met on his way to the pit – just like all of the drivers would do. But he wasn’t them. Unfortunately. And that’s why he ended up here instead – sitting in the darkest corner of his private room and desperately trying to remain composed. But failing miserably…

A sudden knock on the door made him jump.

“Mate, are you alright in there?” it was his Bradley, his racing engineer. The very last person Nico wanted to talk with at the moment.

He contemplated his possible answer for a while. _Was he alright?_ Of course he wasn’t, but he doubted his engineer was the right person to talk to about his personal feelings. It took him a little too long it seems, since the knocking was there again, only this time the impatience that came along was more obvious.

Nico bit his bottom lip. _Hard._

“Go away. Leave me the fuck alone…” _You are getting yourself into trouble, Hulkenberg…_

A muffled “Fine. Suit yourself.” was all he got as an answer. He knew all too well that winding up an already pissed off Bradley Joyce wasn’t the brightest idea, but it seemed as the only possible solution at the moment. _At least he’s gone…_ but the thought hasn’t done anything to help him feel less guilty.   

A small sigh of relief barely managed to escape his mouth as the sound of knocking filled the room once again – only this time it was a lot gentler, shy almost and immediately followed by someone trying to turn the doorknob around.

And then it clicked.

_Schaiβe, schaiβe, schaiβe…_ He had forgotten to lock the damn door.

Nico swallowed hard as panic started to kick in. The idea of someone finding him in this shape certainly wasn’t appealing. At the moment he was a mess and he’s always hated being weak in front of other people. He rubbed his face with his forearm and tried frantically to erase all the sings of wretchedness and exhaustion, only managing to ruffle his hair in the process which only added more to his miserable look.

The door creaked but remained slightly ajar as someone’s silhouette appeared in the doorstep, lurking inside with obvious wariness.

“You okay?”

Nico looked up to see the person who said those loathed words. _Great…_

“Esteban, go away” it didn’t take long for his ex-teammate to sneak inside and sit quietly by the opposite wall. How fucking predictable… “Please, I not in the mood right now.”

He glanced over the Mexican and noticed he was still wearing his overalls. He had to come here right after the race finished. _What a child…_ Nico almost snorted. This kid was unbelievable. And now he sat there by the opposite wall, adjusting his glasses and looking even more nerdy than usually.

“Aren’t you supposed to celebrate with your own team?” asked Nico, defeated. He knew that once Esteban decided to stay, there was no talking him out of it.

“My race was shit” the other man shrugged as if he was talking about the most ordinary thing in the world “So was Adrian’s. Nothing to celebrate.”

Nico rested his head on the wall and sighed heavily. _This is going to be a long day…_

“Why are you here?” he tried.

“Don’t know… maybe I wanted to spend some time with my friend?”

_A friend…_ Nico thought bitterly. He was no friend to Esteban. They used to be teammates, of course  - but now it was over and he never expected their relationship to carry on after they joined different teams. Only Esteban… he never stopped calling. He was always there somewhere – during grand prix weekends, during holidays… Always around. Nico’s always felt that he was doing terrible job in returning the favor. He never wanted a friend in the first place. Friends meant commitment. And friends meant pain, after they were finally gone…

“I warn you  - I’m not a good company right now.”

“Fine. We can just sit here and talk nothing if you want.”

And so they sat, looking at each other occasionally  - the overwhelming silence disturbed only by their regular breathing. The German felt uncomfortable. He knew all too well what Esteban was trying to do. They knew each for way too long. He was trying to make Nico talk, to force him to open up and say all of his problems out loud. But he was getting none of it.

The minutes passed slowly. Agonizingly slowly. And just when Nico was starting to think that they were going to spend their eternity there, the Mexican shifted from his previous position and moved closer to him, so he was now sitting right next to the other man; brushing his upper arm against Nico’s.

Nico was about to say something when he felt other man’s arm move behind him and before he realized what was happening, Esteban was holding him in a tight embrace. Nico exhaled a shaky breath and rested his forehead against the slightly bony shoulder. He had to close his eyes tightly  - he wasn’t going to cry. Not now. Not in front of another person. And surely not in front of _him_. But it was right after he felt delicate fingers running through his hair in a reassuring manner and a hand rubbing his back gently when it was suddenly too much. Way too much to bare.

A miserable sob escaped his lips and he hated himself for being so weak.

_Come on, Hulkenberg – you are a grown man. You are supposed to act like one…_    

A litany of soothing Spanish words brushed right over his ear, making goose bumps appear on his neck. He understood none of them, but it didn’t matter. Somehow… somehow they were comforting. Esteban’s soft accent making them a medicine he never realized he needed.

“I… I let them down” he managed to whisper. “All of ‘em…”

“Not your fault the car broke down. It happens.”

Esteban took off his glasses and put them aside. As soon as Nico raised his head to look up, he regretted this decision. He felt as if he could drown in those giant, brown orbs. There was something about those eyes… Something so warm and friendly. Something so enticing… inviting… _What the hell is wrong with you man…_

“But can’t you understand what’s happening? There is something _bad_ going on in Formula 1. No one is safe“ Nico moved back slightly, feeling even more anxious than before. How could Esteban be so calm? Couldn’t he see that they were in danger as well? “Sauber has just hired this Ericsson guy. And what if they decide that they want Sutil for 2015, ha? Aren’t you afraid? Fick mich, teams like Sauber and Force India might not even exist in 2015. We are in the middle of a fucking financial crisis!”

Nico was panting heavily. He never meant to shout. He didn’t realize that there were so many bad emotions inside of him that he tried to hide for so long. And now, after he finally let go of all of it, it felt… _better_.

“Come on Hulk, we’re gonna be fine.”

Nico crossed his arms on his chest and looked down.

“Don’t call me that. I’m not some kind of a superhero…”

“I met at least a dozen kids today who would kill me if I denied it.”

And then there was _this_ smile again. This stupid, heartwarming smile that made him look at least 10 years younger. Like a child in a store full of toys. And no matter how much Nico tried to deny this, it made him smile as well…

“Kids here have their own heroes. They look up to the ‘old dogs’ – someone like Alonso or Button… Not us. We are no heroes”

“Well…at least I know mine” Esteban smiled shyly, blushing like a mad man.

Nico frowned, slightly confused. Of course, he was few years older and started his f1 journey much earlier than the other man, but still… He would never consider himself someone worth looking up to. Hell, he hardly ever considered himself someone worth being an f1 driver. How could he? He’s never achieved anything. Just look at Vettel – the guy is exactly his age and being brought up in alike neighborhood. And now he is a four time World Champion, while Nico has to fight for his position in a team like Force India…

“Why” was all he was able to choke out.

“Umm…”  

Esteban picked up his glasses and started fiddling them nervously in his fingers. He smiled to himself as if he remembered something funny, yet his cheeks remained crimson red and his eyes cast down. As if he didn’t dare to look the other man in the eye. Nico wasn’t quite as amused. He used the back of his hand to wipe the wet trail on his cheek. He was curious. But it definitely wasn’t this pleasurable type of curiosity  - by now it turned out to an uneasy anticipation with anxiety slowly building up in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to know. He _had_ to know…

“Come on, Esteban…” he asked quietly, not even sure if the other man could hear him properly.

And suddenly it all became cleared.

“All those years you’ve been following me around. All those dinners, nights spent in different clubs, holidays in the mountains… Esteban do you…?”    

The younger man said nothing. Instead he pinched the bridge of his nose as if contemplating his possibilities and then slowly, hesitantly started closing the gap between them. Nico sat still, unable to move, unable to think. His mind was blank. His body rooted to the very same spot on the wooden floor. Deep down he knew what was about to happen, but his entire body was paralyzed. Only his heart raced like mad in his chest. All he could do was feel and accept everything that was going on around him.

He could feel other man’s breath on his cheeks, on his chin… Hot. Captivating.

He closed his eyes since he couldn’t stand how small the distance between them was. But that’s what they always do in the movies, isn’t it? Close your eyes and wait for the outcome. He managed to lick his lips in a reflex, seconds before he felt _it._

Esteban’s lips on his own.

Wet. Delightfully wet and inviting. He dared not to reject this invitation. He opened his mouth eagerly. Wanting, needing… Esteban wasted no time and pushed his tongue inside with equal hunger, mesmerizing… exploring places Nico himself never knew that existed. Their tongues danced and fought each other… both craving not for dominance, craving for more…

Nico’s eyes snapped open.

_What am I doing…_

He stood up abruptly; as if the whole room was on fire. Esteban followed soon with confusion and something else in his eyes that Nico has never seen before. Was it fear? Shame?

Esteban made an unsure step forward, but German backed up even more, so now his back was touching the cold surface of the wall. He felt… furious. This wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were _friends_.

“Get out” he hissed through gritted teeth, but after seeing no reaction, he added even more harshly “Get the fuck out of here. Verpiss dich!”

Esteban stared at him with _this look_ once again. Silently asking questions that he didn’t dare to say out loud. But there was no point. He ruined it. And now there was no going back. No fixing things. He bit his lip and left, shutting the door behind him. Not turning back once.

Nico slid down a wall. And buried his head in his hands. He felt hot tears running down his cheeks, soaking his white T-shirt. _What the hell is happening?_ How did he manage to destroy his entire life in less than fifteen minutes? He cursed himself for the DNF, he cursed himself for coming to this room in the first place. He cursed himself for ever meeting Esteban.

He noticed the damn glasses laying forgotten on the floor.

_What should I do?_       


	2. …weil du hier bist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I'm so sorry for the delay, but I had some problems with my Internet connection ...and with my writer's block (not sure which one is worse to be honest). Anyway, I'm back with two chapters (second one - the one that's more... interesting - will be posted either today or tomorrow). As you probably noticed I've decided that it will be no longer a two-shot. Three-shot? - maybe... We'll see how the story works out. 
> 
> Oh, and also when I started writing this story I had no idea that Sauber would sign Felipe Nasr. I was slightly taken aback by the news. (And no, it's not like I cried over my Estebaby leaving F1. Nope. Not at all. *sobs quietly*) And I have to admit it it was one of the reasons why I decided to change the original plotline.
> 
> Enjoy!

Days had passed, but the wounds were still fresh.

Nico hasn’t talked to Esteban ever since… _that_ happened. Although he thought about it. He thought about it a lot more than he’d ever like to admit. The whole situation playing over and over again in his head, like a broken record. The look in Esteban’s eyes, the playful smile on his lips, the wetness of his mouth. His _mouth…_ Nico bit his lip at the thought. He hated himself for even admitting it, but it was…

 _What the actual hell, Hulkenberg?_ He cursed himself. _You are talking about kissing another guy…_

He still couldn’t understand why Esteban had done it. Why he decided to destroy their friendship? After all those years. Was it a spontaneous and reckless act caused by such intimacy they had happened to share at that very moment? Or was it simply because Esteban was pitying him after the DNF? Either way, Nico wasn’t sure what to think about it. And it made him angry. Very angry.

And therefore he had spent the past few days in his private hotel room in one of the quietest districts of Sao Paulo. Contemplating, relaxing before the race weekend, trying to escape from masses of fans and annoying journalists… attending only those PR events his manager said to be compulsory. All he needed was some peace and quiet. These 30 square meters of nicely furnished space had become his own little sanctuary. But… was there anything else he was trying to escape from? To _hide_ from…?

In fact, he did his best in avoiding Esteban throughout the week. He knew that seeing him again anytime soon would mean only one thing - talking things over. And as proven before, Nico despised talking about his emotions, especially if he himself wasn’t sure how he felt.

He kept _the glasses_ locked firmly inside the bedside table and his mobile turned off.

But Esteban hadn’t called. Not once.  

And it wasn’t until the first Free Practice session when Nico finally heard the news.

He expected Sergio to be pissed at Daniel Juncadella for literally destroying his car. He would be for sure. Yet at the moment his teammate seemed to be anything but angry. Of course, he was a little irritated. Who wouldn’t? But mostly Sergio was just sad and somehow it depressed Nico even more.

“What’s up, Checo? Or rather as you say in Mexican, como estas?” he tried, feeling the need to lighten the mood himself.

“You’re not even funny” Sergio rolled his eyes, but smirked nonetheless and it somehow made Nico feel satisfied. _Still got it, old man_. “Did you hear? About Sauber team?”

“Nope, what about it?”

“You remember when they signed Marcus and the guys didn’t know who stays for the next season?” Nico nodded slowly, feeling more and more worried with each passing second “And now they did exactly the same thing – with Nasr. There is no place for Adrian y Guti, no?”  

It took Nico a few moments of intensive thinking to comprehend what he’d just heard, yet even after all these efforts, he was none the wiser.

“Sorry Sergio, but I don’t quite get your drift…”   

The younger man said nothing, rolling his eyes and sighing heavily. He reached into his back pocket, took out a smartphone and started touching its screen eagerly, obviously looking for something he found very interesting. 

“Look” he said just about the time when Nico was beginning to lose his patience. “See? Read this.”

Nico took Sergio’s phone and scrolled down something that resembled an online version of a popular F1 magazine.

_“…means Adrian Sutil and Esteban Gutierrez must find new drives for next year…”_

_“…leaving both Gutierrez and teammate Adrian Sutil out in the cold….”_

Each word he read felt like being stabbed into heart with a dull knife. He wanted to say something, to make a joke  - so Sergio would not be able to see the sadness painted on his facial expression, but all of sudden he forgot how to speak. His tongue felt numb. What does it mean they’re _out_?

“It’s pretty bad I think” Sergio started again and Nico screamed internally for him to stop talking already. “They didn’t even tell them personally. They got to know from the TV, you know? How come Esteban didn’t tell you? I thought you guys were friends?”

Nico’s fists clenched and he squeezed his mouth shut, because it hurt. It truly fucking _hurt…_

“Yep, I thought so too.”

The Mexican furrowed his brow and opened his mouth slightly as if he was about to ask something, but  - much to Nico’s gratitude  - he was interrupted by young Spaniard entering the room, looking like a kid who’d just accidentally destroyed his mother’s favorite vase and was about to come clean.

“Sorry…?” Daniel offered quietly.

Sergio crossed his arms on his chest and sighed heavily. Even though there was only a year of age difference between them, Nico could’ve sworn to God that his teammate suddenly turned into the disappointed parent, who always cherished the vase as the last memorial after their long-dead great grandmother.

Nico patted younger of the two on the back reassuringly and used the situation as an excuse to leave the room unnoticed.

* * *

 

The following night turned out to be one of the most difficult in Nico’s life. He couldn’t sleep, yet he didn’t feel like doing anything else, so he just lay there in the hotel bed with his eyes closed, trying to shut out the chaos of thoughts but failing miserably. Many questions had been posed in his mind that night. Majority of which remained unanswered. _The difficult ones…_

 _What happens if Esteban leaves F1?_ He was still so young and it saddened Nico even more, because he knew that if the kid is forced to take a year off it would only mean one thing  - the end of his Formula One career. But _no…_ Nico dreaded these words, he would never be able to say them out loud.

_What should I do?_

_Why didn’t he tell me? Is he still angry?_ He surely had the right to be, thought Nico bitterly. He regretted throwing him out like this. He hated himself for all of those words, the words of malice  - intended to inflict as much harm as possible. Right then Nico had reacted out of pure instinct, trying to defend himself; just like an animal  - and now he despised all of it.

_Did he mean what he said? Were his actions true?_

_Is it possible that he lo…_

His alarm clock went off at 5:30 sharp.

He groaned as he turned it off. He didn’t have the energy to get out of bed, especially after having so little sleep last night, but it was Saturday and Saturdays meant only one thing – the racing weekend was about to start getting serious.

He was supposed to focus on the forthcoming qualifications, but his mind was preoccupied with something… different. Somehow in his slumber he managed to come up with a plan and he was determined to do everything he could to make it real.

He packed his things, remembering to hide _the glasses_ firmly in the pocket of his jeans and headed out to meet his physio and the rest of the crew.

* * *

 

 The FP3 session wasn’t _just_ bad, in fact it was terrible.

Both of the SFI cars brought up the very rear. Even Hulkenberg being nearly half of a second quicker than his teammate, didn’t make him feel any better. For the past few hours he had been trying to catch Esteban, yet still hadn’t succeeded. Despite the fact, that he’d almost managed to crash into him on the tract (which he thankfully didn’t), he hadn’t seen the boy even once. It was as if he somehow appeared only for those one and a half hours in the car and then vanished into thin air.

And it was right after the Quali when he decided that he finally had had enough.

P12 wasn’t as bad as his Free Practice results, but being sandwiched between two Sauber cars only resulted in winding him up even more.

Once the Q2 was over, he put on his every day clothes and the most charming smile, hoping that it was convincing enough to fool the media about how laid-back and confident he was after qualifying as high on the grid and headed towards the Sauber team’s garage.

 

Stepping inside the overwhelmingly tidy interior he tried to look as casual as possible. He felt out of place with his frayed jeans and Force India polo shirt among dozens of dressed in black and white mechanics and various other people rushing about. And just as he thought, _no Esteban in the sight…_

“Got lost, Hulkenberg?” Nico couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Adrian Sutil himself standing possessively near his C33-Ferrari.

“Nope, just visiting my old… home.  I missed being here, you know?” he smirked seeing Adrian shaking his head in disbelief and added in slightly more serious tone: “How are you feeling after the Quali? Enjoying your sweet spot in the 7th row?”

“Ah, don’t even start this. At least we are better than a certain Force India. But now, why are you here? Because I’m pretty sure that chitchatting with an old friend isn’t the real reason behind your… visit.”

A half-hearted smile appeared on Nico’s lips. If there was one thing he liked the most about his ex-teammate it definitely was his straightforwardness. No fooling around, just straight to the point. He reached into the pocket of his jeans and looked up at the taller man. He flinched at how weary Adrian looked. He was nothing like his old cheerful self Nico remembered from his early years with Force India. Not that Sutil had ever been an overly joyful type…

“Umm… I’ve found these “ he took out Esteban’s glasses and showed them to Adrian to prove his point. “I wanted to return them to their owner, but the kid kinda disappeared. Any ideas where he’s at?”

Adrian shrugged, and it was one of _those_ shrugs that Nico knew all too well.

“Don’t know. Maybe he’s gone to the hotel already. But I can give them to Esteban later if you want…”

He reached out to take the glasses from Nico, but the other man took a step back and put them in his pocket once again. There was nothing rude about this movement, but it was decisive and Nico made it very clear that he wasn’t giving up so easily.

“I also have to tell him something very important. In private. Can you give me the number of his hotel room?”

Adrian scratched his chin, pretending to think intensively.

“Not sure…”

Of course he wasn’t. It’s not like he had a room of his own in the very same hotel, probably right next to Esteban’s nonetheless since they were bloody teammates. And it’s not like he’d just offered going there himself. Not at all. Nico sighed. _Typical…._ But he couldn’t blame Adrian for it. How could he? The guy had always been a great teammate; a great friend. And _loyalty_ was the word Nico had always associated with him the most. Who knows, maybe he sensed somehow that something was off… Or maybe it was Esteban himself who asked him not to tell…

“Come on, it’s just a number. Please, which room is it?”

Adrian shook his head in refusal. He was beginning to say something when a thickly accented voice appeared out of nowhere, making both of them jump in surprise. Giedo van der Garde stepped between the two of them, sipping lazily at what looked some kind of an energy drink.

“Who’s room?”   

“Esteban’s” without hesitation, Nico nearly exclaimed, not giving Adrian any chances to react.

“Oh, isn’t it… 515?” Giedo furrowed his brow and looked at Adrian, who simply closed his eyes and sighed in disbelief. “Yep. Right next to Monisha’s, I think”

Nico was so grateful, he wanted to hug the Dutchman. A success… _finally._ It wasn’t much, but at least now he knew where to start. He offered a simple ‘thank you’ and the other man just shrugged and focused back on his energy drink.

Nico waved a goodbye and was about to leave when he felt Adrian’s fingers on his wrist and heard his hushed voice right over his ears..

“Nico, alles gut?” it was impossible to look right into those full of concern eyes and Nico looked away, ashamed. Suddenly he realized how stupid he was not to remember that after all Adrian was going through things comparably as bad as in Esteban’s case at the moment.

“Ja. Und du?”

“Just go. Don’t screw this one up. He needs you.”

* * *

 

With Adrian’s words still echoing in his head, Nico entered the hotel. There was a knot forming in the pit of his stomach – a sick feeling that made him want to throw up. And the worst part was that no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t recognize this feeling.

_Come on, Hulkenberg. Get a grip of yourself. You are behaving like a child…._

He was irritated. Yes, that’s what the feeling was. _Irritation._ Nothing more. And he had a right to feel this way. This whole situation was indeed irritating.

The thought gave him all courage he needed until he found the door. _Number 515._

“Esteban” Nico knocked on the door with way too much force than necessary.

He could feel the anger boiling up inside of him… coming in waves…. Blurring his vision. He was furious, yet he didn’t know what at nor because of who. Was he angry at Esteban? For avoiding him, lying to him and – most importantly – not trusting him enough to tell him the truth? Or maybe he was angry at the Sauber team – for treating such a genuine and innocent kid like a piece of shit throughout the whole year and then shamelessly kicking him out, without even letting him know before the media did…

But deep down Nico knew that there was only one person he was being angry at; whom he was blaming for this awful situation and whom he was slowly beginning to genuinely hate…

And the person was no one different than he himself.

He banged on the door once again even harder than before. He knew that Esteban was there, he’d seen his car parked outside. And he knew that Esteban could hear him and that pissed him off even more.

“Esteban, open the door.”

He wanted to kick, to shout, to break the door down. He wanted to destroy the whole world around him and lock himself up in a soundproof shell; away from the others. About the time the anger reached its apogee, his hand started trembling and his body suddenly felt numb. Standing on the verge of tears, all he wanted was to run away  - to go back to his own hotel room and never try doing this again.

“Öffne mir…” he tried once again; his palm flat against the cold surface and his voice hushed. “Lass mich hinein. Bitte…”

He was about to give up and go away, when suddenly the door _clicked…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope it wasn't terrible... Sorry if I messed up the German parts - it's not my native language either, but... in my opinion it's very sexy so get ready for more of it in the later chapter/chapters. 
> 
> As usually, any kind of feedback would be appreciated ;)


	3. Wie die Vögel ziehn wir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains lots of smut and awkwardness. You read it on your own risk.

The handle turned and a slender silhouette appeared in the doorstep. Nico’s heart skipped a beat. He felt as if being caught red handed, even though he hadn’t done anything wrong. His cheeks began to redden on their own accord, which only added to his embarrassment. _What the hell is happening with you, Hulkenberg?_

“Nico… What are you doing here?”

Esteban stood just few feet away with his hands in the pockets of his worn-looking jeans. He didn’t look any different than usually. Or maybe he did? Nico couldn’t tell. It felt as if they hadn’t seen each other in ages. He had his hair all ruffled and his eyes swollen slightly  - obvious sings of exhaustion, but other than that… he seemed to be his normal old self. And it almost made Nico want to start joking around or pinch his cheeks, just like he normally would.

The German wanted to say something, but his mouth felt dry. All of sudden, he’d forgotten how to use his tongue properly.

“I-I…”

 _How do you say these words? How do you make your mouth work?_ His mind was blank. All he knew was that he needed to do something. _Something._ Yet he still wasn’t sure what this _something_ was supposed to be. Nothing seemed to be appropriate enough at the moment. And therefore he decided to take his chances and go for broke.

_It was now or never…_

He took a step further, into the dim lit interior and without giving the younger man any chances to react, he put his arms around him in a bone-crushing embrace. Esteban did nothing to neither push him away nor return the gesture. He just stood there still, unmoving, as if being rooted to the very place on the floor. And it was only his steady breathing and the hammering of his heart, that reassured the other man somehow that he was still there – alive and real.

“Sorry…” he mumbled into smaller man’s shirt, hoping it was quiet enough for him not to hear.

It scared him how thin Esteban was in his arms; how small he appeared to be. Like a child; lost and in need for help. At this particular moment Nico desired to offer him this help, whatever it would be. He wanted to stay like this – with the younger man safe in his arms  - forever.

“What for…” Esteban’s voice was so quiet, it took Nico several seconds to realize that something had actually been said to him.

“For everything. I can be a douche sometimes, you know? Like a real life _Arschgeige…”_ Esteban’s giggle vibrated against his own chest and Nico couldn’t help but smile a little as well. “You know, your knowledge in terms of German profanity is actually quite impressive for someone who can’t build a proper sentence in the language.”

“I thought you were mad at me…”

“I’m sorry, okay?” he took Esteban’s head in his hand so he could look him straight in the eyes, and all he found in those dark orbs was remorse and guilt and he hated himself for putting them there. “I… I didn’t know how to react to… this. I panicked. I’m an idiot and I’m sorry for that. I just needed some time to think things over…”

“And…?”

“Why didn’t you tell me anything? About the contract, about this whole mess with Sauber? Why have you been avoiding me?” Nico bit his lip. He knew well that it was equally his fault and that it was him who let some petty events cloud their long-term friendship. It was him, who acted childishly, not Esteban and every cell in his body _screamed_ for him to beg for forgiveness instead of asking those questions.

“What do you mean? I… I thought you didn’t want to see me after… what I’ve done. You threw me out…”

Nico’s heart sank at the memory. Regret flew over his body – coming in waves and inflicting almost physical pain. He brushed Esteban’s cheek with his thumb.

 _I’m so sorry…_ his mind screamed, but his lips remained silent.

“And I didn’t want you to come here only because you pity me and…”

Nico never let him finish his sentence. He’d heard enough already, his head beginning to throb from the excess of emotions boiling up inside of his gut. He captured Esteban’s lips with his own in a long, passionate kiss.

“Nico…”

“Shhh…”

He began placing gentle kisses and pecks everywhere he could  - on his cheekbones, along his jawline, just behind his earlobe. He wanted to reach everything. To _taste…._ To map all of Esteban’s body, so there were no more any secrets nor boundaries between the two of them.

“Esteban” he whispered. “ _Ich liebe dich._ Do you know what that means?”

“Yes” Esteban nodded. “Me too… I mean, I love you… too.”

Nico let out a shaky breath. He felt as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. _Yes. Everything was okay._ Esteban didn’t hate him. He embraced the younger man and buried his fingers in dark locks of hair. They were soft under his fingertips. Esteban’s hand travelled up his waist, rubbing gentle circles on his back. The gesture was comforting, reassuring him that from now on everything would be alright, no matter what happens. It made him want to stay like this forever.

They started kissing again, this time more hungrily than before. There was something more that started to arise between the two of them, and it became stronger and more… fiery with each kiss and each touch they shared. Their bodies moved in unspeakable synchrony  - the border line, where one of them ended and the other began becoming blurred, barely noticeable.

Esteban’s hands on Nico’s back. Nico’s fingers in Esteban’s hair. Their tongues dancing together. Body fluids expanding their circulation to another person’s body.

With their bodies still entwined, they moved closer to the bed that was standing abandoned in the middle of the room. Esteban knelt on the soft sheets, sitting on his heels and making Nico follow him as well.  

“Nico…”

The German moved an inch away and eyed him questioningly. Esteban had his eyes cast down, cheeks turning into a deep shade of crimson. He was tinkering with the hem of his shirt ineptly… idly… nervousness in this sudden change of behavior too evident for the other man to miss.

“I-I…” he started, but after a moment bit his bottom lip instead, obviously not being able to find the right words. “C-can you… I mean…”

“I can do anything you want me to” he pecked the younger man’s lips to prove his point. “Just say it. You want me to stop?”

The Mexican shook his head frantically. No he did not want Nico to stop whatever he was doing.

“Then what is it? I can’t read minds, mein Schatzi…”

Esteban exhaled a shaky breath, trying to reassure himself. Nico wondered what could possibly make him so shy and anxious so suddenly. The Mexican laid the palms of his hands flat against his denim-clad thighs, still kneeling on the bed in the exact position as before, resting his bum on his heels. In Nico’s eyes he looked absolutely gorgeous like this – blushing madly with his hair all ruffled and his eyes a lot darker than usually, if it’s even possible.

“I-I…want you to… top me…off” he squeezed his eyes shut as if being afraid of the other man’s reaction.

“What do you mean _top you off_?”

Esteban sighed heavily. Nico swore he could actually see the disappointment appearing in those dark orbs. But there was something even worse within them. Something the German couldn’t quite put his finger on, yet he knew he had seen this once before. Was it… hurt? Nico’s heart sank at the thought. Esteban hurting was the very last thing he desired. No more…

“It… doesn’t matter” Esteban started getting up slowly, trying to avoid the embarrassing situation, but Nico managed to place both of his arms firmly on the younger man’s shoulders – keeping him in place, yet trying not to scare him off.

“Relax. Just tell me.”

“Uhmm… means…” his voice came out in a barely audible whisper, with the last part being even quieter. “…to fuck me.”

Nico furrowed his brow, trying to comprehend the words he’d just heard. He swallowed the gulp forming in his throat. Now it was his turn to start blushing. His cheeks were burning, giving him the idea of exactly how red they were turning. He was at his wit’s end, having never considered this… possibility before. Let alone being asked to do _this_ with someone of the same sex.

“But…how?” he felt dumb for asking this kind of question, but he wanted to reassure Esteban that he wouldn’t ever reject him, under no circumstances.

“Uhmm…”

“I mean, I know how… theoretically-wise. At least, I guess so. But… Have you ever done this before?” Esteban simply shook his head. His mouth opened momentarily as if he wanted to say something, but he closed it again, apparently deciding against the idea and letting Nico continue instead. “Well.. that’s alright. Me neither. But are you sure? Are you 100% sure you want to do this?

“If you don’t want to, then…”

The sound of dejection in his voice and a subtle attempt to get up and walk away made Nico react.

Esteban struggled in his arms, trying to escape, yet the German’s bruising grip on his shoulders tightened even more, making it impossible to move for the younger man. As soon as Nico felt him relax a little, he closed the gap between them and literally attacked the Mexican’s mouth with his own. The kiss was deep, passionate – way more passionate than any of the previous ones Nico had experienced throughout his lifetime. And he enjoyed it. He loved it with his whole heart, because… simply because it was Esteban. _His_ Esteban. Deep down he knew that he was slowly starting to get used to the idea. And he hoped that somehow he could make Esteban see this as well.

Nico moved his hands experimentally, down Esteban’s waist… his hips… the delicate curve of his ass… Taking in the shapes, the smells, the tastes… All of those little imperfections that made him perfect. Mesmerizing… absorbing… He slid his fingers under the hem of younger man’s T-shirt, exploring new territories… feeling the delightful softness and heat of bare skin on his hips.

He felt Esteban move as well  - shyly, still unsure… like a teenager making out for the first time with a girl, while their parents were sitting on the couch downstairs. He moved his hands up to the back of Nico’s neck, rubbing gently and caressing the soft blond hair occasionally. The tiniest movement of his fingertips made goose bumps appear all over Nico’s skin. In a response, Nico deepened the kiss, brushing his tongue against the other’s.

In such haze, he’d never realized he was getting aroused. Quickly…

Out of pure reflex, he grinded his hips against Esteban’s, making him kneel up to meet the thrust in the process.

A cold shiver run down Nico’s spine. Something weird was building up in his stomach. Anticipation. The need. 

Both of them moaned into each other’s mouths. They parted in the sudden need for oxygen. 

Momentarily, Nico had the opportunity to see Esteban’s face. He was flushed, like a person who’s just gotten out of the bed, but in a nicer, more… sexy way. His lips were swollen and slightly parted. He was panting heavily. For a moment – just the tiniest bit of a second – their eyes met and that particular moment alone made Nico want _more_ …

He nibbled at the skin of Esteban’s neck, grinding his hips again and again… Making Esteban moan and whimper just above his ear; the younger man’s breaths coming out shallow and ragged.

“Ja, so...” Nico choked out, suddenly forgetting how to speak English. “Du hast… noch nicht genug… was?”

“Nico… I can’t… Agrh… I don’t speak German.”

“Ja, I know. ”despite a voice screaming in his head not to, he stopped moving so he would be able to form a proper sentence. “This isn’t what you asked for, nicht wahr?” he asked and after seeing as Esteban shook his head (exactly as Nico had suspected) he added in a more demanding tone. “These clothes. Off.”

Esteban bit his bottom lip and took hold of the edge of his two sizes too big T-shirt, pulling it up in an agonizingly slow manner, revealing his tanned skin inch by inch; fraction by fraction. Nico was getting impatient, yet he knew that what Esteban was doing wasn’t simply a part of a foreplay or teasing – it was uneasiness and embarrassment caused by being made to expose himself in front of another person. Nico did feel a little bit hurt because of this fact, but still he understood. Esteban had always been like that. Shy. Whereas the German was quite the opposite.

Whilst Esteban was busy trying to unbutton his jeans with shaky hands, Nico quickly got rid of his own clothes, including a pair of black boxer briefs. Esteban sighed hopelessly, angry at himself for being so nervous and incapable of managing the simplest of tasks. 

“Komm hier…” Nico  joined Esteban on bed once again, taking care of all the clothing himself and smirked, yet it wasn’t one of those scornful sneers. Actually he found the Mexican’s poor attempts rather cute.

After making the younger man lie down with his back upon the soft sheets, he proceeded placing gentle kisses along Esteban’s collarbone. One kiss... one feather–like brush of his lips over the hot skin at a time. He moved down; leaving a trace of wet spots behind. Both of his hands caressed Esteban’s sides, feeling every single muscle tense under his touch. By the time he reached Esteban’s happy trail, he started to work on the belt and hooked his fingers under the edge of the denim material.   

He slid the jeans down Esteban’s hips along with his white Calvin Klein boxers.

A sudden gasp made Nico look up. Esteban looked like a baby deer caught in the headlights, with his big eyes wide open and cheeks red. Nico gave him what he considered his best reassuring smile and adjusted his position on top of younger man, kneeling between his thighs. He could feel Esteban’s curious gaze on his body, seizing him up and down… Yet he knew that the exact moment he decides to return the gaze, Esteban will look away, so he simply bent down and proceeded doing what he’d started.

He placed both of his bands on Esteban’s hips; keeping him in place. He began kissing and pecking softly the pelvic area, each sigh and shudder he managed to rip out of Mexican’s body making his own manhood throb and beg for attention. A part of his mind wanted to scream, to ask himself what the hell he found so arousing about this whole situation, yet there was also another  part – _the louder one_ – which told him to shut the fuck up, start enjoying himself and leave contemplating his life choices for a more suitable time and place.

He brushed his nose through dark pubic hair and breathed in the masculine scent. Something new, something exciting… _It’s either now or never_. Starting from the base, he used his tongue to slowly, lazily even lick all way down to the very tip of Esteban’s cock.

Esteban moaned.

_Yes, you are doing this right._

Nico sucked at the tip, remembering to graze his teeth over it once in a while. He opened his mouth as much as he could and began swallowing other man’s length. Inch by inch. He tried to give himself some time to adjust. _How the hell do girls do it…._

Just when he was halfway there, Esteban bucked his hips, unwittingly hitting the back of Nico’s throat and making him choke. Tears welled up in Nico’s eyes. The world around him blurred. The lack of oxygen becoming unbearable. Yet he never stopped. Never gave up. He tightened his grip on Esteban’s hips, making sure he stays in place and spent the following few second concentrating on his own breathing, counting each inhale and each exhale until the rhythm steadied and he could once again breathe properly.

Nico started moving his head up and down experientially. The motion felt so natural, so… right. He’d almost forgotten about the world around them. Right then, at this perfect moment there were no problems, no other people, no fears and uncertainties of tomorrow. In this perfect universe there were only so many things existing – the two of them on these white sheets, the movement and the intensity of Esteban’s taste in his mouth, overpowering other stimuli.  

Up and down. Up. And. Down.

He used his tongue to trace the vibrating vein on the side with each bob of his head and hollowed his cheeks as much as he could. Esteban’s hand landed on his scalp; long fingers tangling themselves messily in his hair. _Approvingly._

_Up and down…._

A symphony of delightful moans and whimpers from afar filled his ears. A short-lived thought of Monisha next door being able to hear everything crossed his mind, but it vanished into thin air almost as quickly as it appeared. Esteban began squirming beneath his grip.

“Nico…”

The voice was hoarse, lost somehow. So much different to what Nico had heard before. And it pleased him. Made him confident of his actions. He moaned around Esteban’s member that was now leaking with precum. He could taste it with ease  - tiny salty drops that made the movement more fluent.

“Nico… please…”

The fingers were now tugging at his hair, but Nico was too far gone to notice. With one hand he cupped the soft and delicate skin around Esteban’s scrotal area. He’s never been in such haze before  - the experience of having this kind of power over another man; of being able to give him something much _better_ was overwhelming. His mind was set to give Esteban as much pleasure as possible. And that was his only goal.

“…stop…”

Suddenly Esteban wriggled free and turned onto his side abruptly, pushing Nico away and rolling himself into a fetal position. With one hand he grabbed the base of his cock in what looked like a painfully strong grip, his eyes closed shut and his face bearing a grimace of pure discomfort. Nico watched everything in awe, afraid that he’s done something wrong. He wanted to reach Esteban, to find out if everything was okay, but the other man flinched away at the slightest touch.

“Esteban…”

“No… not like this…. I-I want more… please”

Nico smiled to himself. Shouldn’t he feel fluttered? He brushed his fingers through Esteban’s hair and kissed his jawline softly, hopping to make him feel better after this self-inflicted denied orgasm. _What a kid…_ he thought, biting gently at his earlobe.

It didn’t took Esteban long to recover and soon he was trashing and making all kinds of sounds once again. He seemed to be torn between wanting more and wanting to be left in peace – like a ticklish person being attacked by a merciless aggressor. And even though the metaphor was throughout childish, it was the most accurate thing Nico managed to come up with at his present state.

And at the moment Nico was reduced to pieces.

Every tiniest whimper; lustful sound that escaped Esteban’s throat headed straight to Nico’s groin, making him aroused beyond comprehension without even being touched. He could feel precum leaking from his member. While his lips remained on Esteban’s neck and collarbone, his hand travelled down between his own thighs. Each stroke at a time he began a slow, lazy pace, his mind wondering to all the things that were about to happen.

Nico knew that if things continued that way, he wouldn’t be able to last much longer.

“Have you…got?” finding the right words wasn’t the easiest of tasks, especially if you were forced to speak in language different than your native one.

Esteban blushed a little more and without saying anything, he pointed at the bedside table which stood right next to the bed. Nico reached out, opened the top drawer and slid his fingers inside, trying to find what he was looking for without being forced to get off the bed. His hand rummaged through a variety of rather undefined objects until… _Yes!_ _That’s it!_ With quite an effort he took out a lube and an unopened pack of condoms.

While putting a condom on, he tried to remember all the little tricks and facts he knew from his previous encounters. He tried _this_ once before. Yes. With one of his previous girlfriends. She said it was her thing, that she would love to try it with him. But nothing happened. He chickened out the very last moment and decided to never tell anyone about this embarrassing experience. _Never._ But now he was thankful, because it gave him at least a tiny clue of what he was doing.

“You sure?” Nico asked, opening the small bottle and pouring some cold liquid on his fingers.

Esteban nodded, but his face didn’t look quite as blissful as moments ago. Nico took few deep breaths and tried his best at warming the lube by rubbing it in his hands. He knew that he was thinking way too much, trying to make his actions calculated and well-thought-of… Putting too much logic into sex was equal with spoiling the whole experience and Nico was aware of it, but at the same time he knew that if he acted recklessly, he would hurt Esteban and that’s something he would never forget himself.

With his fingers slick with what he considered a great amount of lubrication, he reached between Esteban’s buttocks. He circled around the entrance, taking in the feeling. Esteban was tense and it fascinated Nico how his muscles would clench and squeeze under his touch.

Slowly, almost hesitantly he slid one of his digits through the tight ring of muscles.

Nico looked up as Esteban made a barely audible strangled sound  - it wasn’t caused by pain, yet by the embarrassment and a slight discomfort he was surely in and it gave German all reassurance he needed to keep going.

He turned his finger, just a little.

It felt… _different._ The smoothness of Esteban’s insides, the way his body reacted to the intrusion, the way his muscles would clench and unclench themselves around his finger, devouring, taking it deeper. It was _captivating…_ He heard himself beginning to pant, but it all felt too unreal. He didn’t even know why he felt this way. After all he wasn’t even the one on the receiving end…

Feeling Esteban relax, he added a second finger; sliding it inside in a one fluent movement.

“Oh… chingow…”

“Esteban…?”

“Yes… Go on.”

Nico began moving his fingers once again  - turning, scissoring, taking them almost all way out only to thrust them deep inside. His actions repetitive. His mind focused, but at the same time lost in chaos of thoughts. The sights, the smells, the movements  - all blended into one breathtaking experience and all he wanted was _more…_

He added a third one and curled his fingers, accidently finding _the spot._

A high-pitched scream was ripped Esteban’s throat. It scared Nico at first, but seeing the younger man breathing coming out in short and shallow exhales and his eyelids half-closed in pure delight reassured him that he was indeed doing _the right thing_.

Deciding Esteban was loose enough, he withdrew his fingers and used some more lubricant on his own member.

 _The moment_ has come. They were about to cross an invisible boundary and he knew that if they crossed this line, there would be no turning back. It added to the anxiety building up in his stomach, but it also made him feel more excited, more aroused.

Esteban on the other hand was nervous, much more than before. He could feel it with ease. Every single muscle on the Mexican’s body tense and his eyes full of uneasiness. Nico wanted to ask him, whether it was okay to continue but he knew that it was pointless – deep down Esteban was just as stubborn as him and he would never back out of something he originally wanted to do.   

“Aber sei ruhig, mein Schatzi….“ He whispered softly right into younger man’s ear, forgetting completely that Esteban wasn’t able to understand what he was saying. “Ich werde nicht, dich zu verletzten… Nie und nimmer…”

Nico adjusted his position on top of Esteban and kissed him soothingly one last time.

_And then it happened…_

He entered the other man slowly, moving not more than an inch at a time. Their bodies becoming one, their minds lost within the eternal unison. Nico closed his eyes in a pure bliss. The tightness, the heat, the tiniest movements and shudders of Esteban’s body  - he felt those were the only things that existed in the universe. He bit his lip, but it didn’t prevent any sound coming out. He moaned in a low, throaty voice that he barely recognized as his own.

Never in his entire life he’d ever felt something like this.

His body screamed to move, to begin thrusting and pounding into the smaller man thoughtlessly as if there was no tomorrow, but instead he forced his eyes open to check on Esteban. The Mexican had his eyes shut and his brow furrowed, but other than that Nico couldn’t read his facial expression.

“Okay?”

Esteban nodded his head, but the movement was way to frantic for Nico’s liking. He opened his mouth to say something more, but closed it again, deciding that he had to simply trust Esteban on this one.

He moved his hips experimentally, causing a jolt of pleasure run through his entire body.

_That’s it…_

He pulled out almost all the way, only to push back again with more force than before. He let his body dictate its own, perfect rhythm. Finally letting go… The time has come for him to stop thinking everything over and start enjoying himself. _Themselves._ And this beautiful… bond they somehow managed to create. He closed his eyes and focused on the feelings, his hips moving on their own accord as if it was the most natural thing on the planet. And it was indeed.

Pulling out and pushing in back again. In and out.

His own ragged breathing and occasional moans were the only things that filled his ears. He could feel Esteban loosing up, inviting him more and more with each thrust. The movement becoming easier, more fluent, more slick…

And then it hit him…

Nico stilled momentarily and his eyes snapped open.

Esteban was laying motionless beneath him with his eyes squeezed shut, biting his bottom lip hard to the point where it almost started bleeding.

“Este…”

Esteban didn’t respond in any way. A single tear run down his cheek. His breathing was shallow, his chest barely moving at all.

Not hesitating any further, with his hearth hammering in in chest Nico pulled out as gently as he could, feeling as Esteban began to shake and quiver. He was at loss. He had no idea what happened. Everything was perfect and then suddenly… something went wrong and all Nico knew was that no matter what caused it, it was his and only his fault.

And then he froze.

As he pulled out, he saw _this._  There was blood on his cock and it definitely wasn’t his own. As he looked down, he found more of it staining the white sheets and partially his and Esteban’s thighs. _Schaiβe, schaiβe, schaiβe…_

A broken sob escaped Esteban’s lips and he broke down completely.

“S-sorry…” he whimpered and it was like a stab in the heart for Nico, because hell, the Mexican was the very last person on earth who should be apologizing at the moment.  

“Mein Gott, stop it” Nico pulled the younger man into a tight embrace, trying to comfort him, to protect him, and most of all trying to show how sorry he was for what happened. And he hated himself for being so reckless and so selfish that he hadn’t been able to see any _signs_ of Esteban being in pain. “Why didn’t you tell me to stop when it hurt? Esteban, you can’t… you must say those things. I didn’t want… I’m so sorry for doing this to you…”

Esteban shook against the German’s chest. He started talking again, but never raised his head look the other man in the eye.

“I-I didn’t want you to think… that I’m… weak…”

“What? You can’t mean this. Look at me…” he hooked his thumb under Esteban’s chin and raised his head gently. “I love you. And this… it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything. You are what matters the most to me, understand?”

“I-I thought you would leave if we don’t… If we haven’t….”

Nico looked at him in utter shock. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Coming here he never considered wanting to sleep with Esteban in the first place and he would never let this interfere with their friendship, especially if it involved the younger man hurting.  His own arousal now forgotten. There were things in life that mattered to him more than others.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m staying” he could feel his own eyes welling up with tears. “Do you want me to call for a doctor or something?

Esteban shook his head and pulled his legs up to his chest, resting his chin on his knees and making himself look like a small, miserable child. Nico sighed. _This is going to be a long night…_ He brushed his hand through Esteban’s hair reassuringly and stood up in order to find some kind of a cloth or a towel to get them cleaned up. And a first aid kit, he figured after a moment. He didn’t know much about this type of internal bleeding, but he had some really bad feelings.

“Hulk…”

“Ha?” he stopped in his tracks and turned his attention to the younger man.

“I-I… Thank you. For not leaving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it happened... I've finally written my first ever smut scene (at least I tried to). It was... fun writing it, but at the same time I'm very anxious about the outcome... Well, hopefully you enjoyed it and let me know what you think.
> 
> (And also, just to let you know - I haven't planned for this chapter to end like this. It just happened. I think this story is writing itself, I'm just a witness...)


	4. Es führt heut Nacht kein Weg zu mir

_“There is a flower which opens up in shadowy night,_  
And gazes at the moon, and sweetens the air,  
Till it’s touched by the beams of morning light.  
  
There is a heart – in wounded breast taking flight;  
Only at night does it breathe in teary despair,  
Till it softly covers its desires from day’s pitiless glare.”*

 

Nico fiddled with his phone nervously.

Shivers were running down his spine, making goose bumps appear all over his naked body. He was sitting on the floor with his back resting on the cool tiles, trying to figure out what to do. First aid kit was nowhere to be found. How fucking predictable… He knew that it should be somewhere though, most likely in the lobby. It had to, for Christ’s sake… Yet he dreaded calling room service for help. The less people knew the better. For both of them.

But he had to do _something…_

He unlocked his phone and waited for the screen to light up.

Who do you call in such situations?

The list of contacts was long. Dozens of names appeared before his eyes. He’d never realized there were so many of them. Other drivers, journalist, sponsors… People that meant business. Empty names. Faces that he could not recall anymore. What was the point in knowing so many of them if in reality they were all strangers? A smile at a party, a blink of an eye, a drink or two. A favor for a favor. Nothing more.

And now – in a situation when he really needed help and somebody he could trust; like a friend – he felt lonely. All of those people – they had never cared about him, not one bit. In fact, it was only his money and his so called ‘fame’ that kept them coming for more. And it hurt. It truly fucking hurt.

His fingers stumbled across a name that was somewhat familiar. _Flo._ Florian Eschrich. His physiotherapist and one of the very few people he could honestly call his… friends. Yes. Florian was his friend. Even though it was one of his employee, Nico knew that still, the older man cared about him more than anyone else ever did. Perhaps even more than his own parents.

He trusted Florian with his life, but… no. He could not call him. Not this time. It was too… embarrassing. He didn’t want to let the guy down and destroy the friendship they’d managed to create over the years of working together. No. Not like this.

He scrolled back to the top, feeling more and more desperate. There had to be _someone._

His eyes rested on one of the very first names on the list. _It’s either him or no one._ Without giving it a second thought, he pressed ‘call’ and waited as Adrian’s photo appeared on the screen.

No, no… _What are you doing?..._

Feeling a hint of panic in his gut, he pressed the red button as quickly as he could, not giving his ex-teammate any chances to answer the call.

He sent the phone flying across the floor angrily. What was even the point in trying? He couldn’t call Adrian nor Florian… He couldn’t call a doctor, because Esteban didn’t want one. Despite, him visiting a medical center hours before the race would only cause too much fuss in the media and attention of any kind was something neither of them needed at the moment.   

There was no one he could ask for help, he realized bitterly. They were on their own. All alone. And all Nico knew was that he _had_ to do something. He had to take care of Esteban, because…

He looked around the small en suite bathroom, trying to find something useful without getting up from his spot on the floor. There was a couple of white, soft-looking towels hanging by the bathtub. Yes. Those he might need later. But what should he do first?

 _Think Hulkenberg, think…_ If there is a bleeding, there must be a wound. It’s just like a cut. Just a regular cut like those you get yourself while slicing something. Yes. There is nothing tricky about dealing with regular cuts. It’s easy. You know how to do this. You’ve done this a thousand times. Right… Where to start?

There was no first aid kit and therefore he had no antiseptics. Despite, even if he had some, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to use them anyway. Nor if it was allowed to use them in such.. places. But he had to clean the wound somehow…

His eyes rested on the bathtub.

Warm water would surely do no harm and it might help to ease the pain.That’s at least how Nico tried to reason his actions.

He felt anxious. _It’s your fault… You did this… It was you and only you who was too occupied with your own needs to notice what was happening and stop in time…_ A voice of conscience kept nagging at his mind, persistently tormenting and adding to the guiltiness. But what hurt the most wasn’t the fact that he was the only one to blame. He was indeed. Yet the idea of Esteban not trusting him enough or moreover fearing to tell him to stop was even worse.

“Esteban, komm her” Nico called, adjusting the water temperature and deciding it was already warm enough.

The bathtub filled quickly and he bent over to turn the water off, keeping in mind that as soon as the younger man gets in, his body will most likely cause the water level to rise anyway.

A sound of barely audible footsteps echoed throughout the small interior, followed soon by a slender silhouette appearing in the doorstep. Nico noticed with surprise that the younger man had already managed to put on a pair of white boxer briefs, trying to cover up as much as possible.

“Nico, it’s really not necessary…” Esteban whispered, lowering his gaze.

His expression was unreadable; rosy blush on his cheeks remaining the only prove that he was indeed a real human being and not an emotionless robot. Nico sighed heavily. Adrian’s words echoed in his head. _Don’t screw this one up…_

“We’ve got a race tomorrow. I’m not leaving you like this, understand? Come here…”

Esteban hesitated for a while, but eventually surrendered. His footsteps were lacking confidence, but he moved forward nonetheless and Nico was relieved to achieve even this much. It scared him how the Mexican was limping slightly, yet he decided not to dwell on the thought. _There is no need to panic…_

He put his arms around the younger man in a reassuring embrace. He wasn’t sure what to say… how to apologize… nor how to make amends for all that he’d done… And therefore he said nothing, letting the actions speak for themselves instead. He gave Esteban a last comporting pat on the shoulders and slid down his boxer briefs in one swift motion, before the younger man even had a chance to protest.  

Esteban whimpered at first, his entire body tensing at the touch, but within few seconds he calmed down and let the other man help him into the bathtub.

Nico watched with apprehension as Esteban hissed through gritted teeth as he lowered himself into the water. At first he thought that it might be too hot. Maybe after spending so much time with his bare butt on the cool floor his judgment in terms of temperature wasn’t the best. But then it struck him. _Yep. It was this bad…_

“Do you want me to…? He tried, but was interrupted harshly by the younger man.

“It’s fine. I can manage” Esteban whispered softly, but it felt like being stabbed for Nico.

He didn’t need to be told twice. He knew exactly what the other man meant. He was unwanted; like an intrusion… crossing the invisible line and going one step too far. He knew what he had to do. The time had come for him to back up.

“Please…”

_…stabbed with a dull knife…_

“Right” Nico exhaled and turned to leave, not looking back once.

***

Once out of the bathroom, Nico took his time dressing up. He knew it was rude invade Esteban’s personal space like this. He’d already done enough harm. Yet he just stood there in his friend bedroom awkwardly, feeling like an idiot, but finding it impossible to leave.

Not yet. Just few more minutes… so it would feel real just for a bit longer. Because he knew well that as soon as he steps out of the door, it all would seem like a dream, like it had never happened.  

As he put on his jeans, he felt something hard in the back pocket.

 _The glasses._ He smiled to himself.

Weren’t they supposed to be the reason he’d come here in the first place?

Well.. that’s at least what he’d told Adrian. But in reality… Well, in reality Nico wasn’t sure himself. Was it because he was worried of Esteban leaving the paddock next year? Yes, definitely. But was it the only reason? Looking back, he was beginning to think that there was something more to it…

He bent over the bed and placed the glasses firmly on white sheets.

A sweet scent filled his nostrils and he inhaled deeply, trying to memorize everything before he had to go.

The bed seemed so inviting…

He smoothed soft surface of the pillow with the palm of his hand. Maybe… just for a moment… He glanced over at the closed bathroom door. Just a tiny moment… He laid himself on the very edge and let himself get lost in the pleasurable warmness.

Images of the past events danced behind his eyes.

Esteban’s scent all around him, the softness of his skin… the dark look in his eyes.. full of lust… wantonness...

… _love_

It felt so real, yet so distinct at the same time. Almost as if he could reach it and re-experience everything once again if he tried hard enough. Deep down he knew it was impossible, but still – at this very moment -  nothing would destroy the idea… the fantasy… the dream of a perfect world he had created.  

Lost in his thoughts, he never realized as his eyes began to close…

***

When he woke up, Nico’s head was throbbing – an excruciating, pulsating feeling that was making him want to scratch his brains out. A thin layer of cold sweat covered his entire body, making it almost impossible to breathe – as if he’d been locked up in a cage. Or in a sauna. For hours. Yes, that was more accurate. He kicked the heavy duvet off of his ankles, yearning for the fresh, cool air.

The room was dark, yet he couldn’t recall it being like this when he had closed his eyes in the first place. How long had he been asleep? He could’ve sworn it wasn’t more than mere minutes since the softness of bedcovers devoured him in full and lulled him into a deep, relentless slumber, but the arising migraine and the agonizing stiffness of muscles convinced him otherwise. Could it be few hours? Felt more like days…

It took him a while to become conscious of another person laying beside him.

Suddenly the memories of the previous events kicked in, making his head spin and a nauseous feeling overflow his body.

_I shouldn’t be here…_

Nico glanced over the silhouette resting peacefully beside him.

Out of first instinct he wanted to get up and run away as quickly as possible. The insecurities took over, as he remembered the awkwardness of said situation.

_What on Earth were you thinking, Hulkenberg?_

He wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole, so he would never be forced to see other people again. It hurt to know that what was once done, could never be undone. And Nico feared the consequences.

Esteban was laying on his side, facing the German. His breathing was even, undisturbed by any visible signs of him being still in any kind of pain. _The warm bath must’ve helped._

He looked like a little child with his face flushed from napping and his lips parted slightly. _And innocent child…_ And Nico couldn’t resist the thought that it was him who succeeded in taking, no ripping this innocence from him.

He began getting up.

Go and save the last remains of pride the two of you have. It would be better this way. It had to…

But as soon as be made a move back, Esteban inched closer sleepily, murmuring something incoherent and leaning his forehead against the other man’s chest.  And that’s when Nico’s heart melted. He buried his hand in the soft, dark hair and hugged the other man gently, trying not to startle him awake.

He let out a long, shaky breath. _This is going to be hard… That’s the only sure thing._ But… maybe there was a light at the end of this tunnel after all. There was a slight chance this could work out. Somehow…

_We are gonna make it._

He kissed the top of Esteban’s head and let this thought lull him back into sleep. 

“Schlaf schön, mein Schatz…” 

***

He wandered across a snow-covered meadow. There were no houses in sight, no trees to mark the horizon – the Earth and the sky blended into one inseparable whole, the overwhelming whiteness of surroundings making his eyes hurt.  Snowflakes were falling down increasingly, worsening the vision, yet he kept his eyes cast down, following a path of barely visible footprints.

His muscles burned from the continuous effort, but he kept on marching, knowing that if ever he stops, the trails will disappear forever.  

He had to march on, yet he did not know why.

There was something… _something_ so incomprehensible yet _something_ so divine at the end of this path and he wanted… he _craved_ to reach it with his own hands. To touch it… To own it... And even though he walked into the unknown in search of something he could not grasp, he kept moving, trying to match his steps with the footprints down below.

He felt alone in his journey and he ached for another soul to walk beside him. Yet there was no one in sight, no one to talk to… no one to turn to, even if he needed help.

There was only him and the endless void.

He hugged his arms, trying to give himself the needed reassurance, but it wasn’t enough. He craved for more. He needed comfort and warmness of another living being beside him. To assure him that it was real, to support him in his wander.

Suddenly a dark figure appeared in his way.

Was it a bird? A crow… Or a raven, with silken, black feathers and the lordliness of a king. He wanted to touch it with his hands, to feel the softness beneath his fingertips… yet all of sudden the bird was out of his reach.

It opened its beak and a sharp, shriek-like sound came out.

He tried to cover his ears for the horrendous sound never stopped, but his limbs felt numb. A breath caught in his throat as a panic started to overflow his body. He wanted to scream, but his mouth was dry. He wanted to run, but his feet were rooted to the ground, making it impossible to move.

_“Nico…”_

A subdued whisper came from afar, forcing its way through the unceasing shriek that now resembled more of a screeching or…beeping of the raven. The voice sounded familiar and he held onto it as if it was his last resort.

_“Nico.”_

He opened his eyes and the brightness disappeared. There was no raven, no snow nor meadow. Only the beeping remained.

It took him a while to realize that he was back in the hotel bed with his body entangled in warm, soft sheets. The room was dark – the only source of light coming from a slightly ajar bathroom door – but it was enough to allow him to see Esteban’s face mere inches from his own, wearing an apologetic half smile.

“Sorry, but your phone kept ringing…”

Nico took the offered device in his hands with surprise, since it was still vibrating. He squinted his eyes, trying to make his vision less blurry in order to read the caller’s name.

‘Flo’.

_Schaiβe…_

He moved his finger to press the answering button, but it was already too late. The phone stopped buzzing and went completely silent. There were several unanswered calls – the majority of which from Florian and a couple from Adrian. _Great…_ This could only mean trouble.

“How long was I asleep?”

“Uhmm… Just a couple of hours.” Esteban moved from his spot where he was kneeling on the floor and crawled back onto bed, taking place behind the German, who was laying on his side.

_A couple of hours?_

Nico checked the time on his smartphone.

9 P.M. _Oh shit… this is not good at all…_

Grunting with irritation, Nico rubbed his face, trying to make his body and mind work properly. If there was one thing he hated the most in life, it would be involuntarily falling asleep during the day, fully clothed nonetheless and waking up few hours later with aching body and the realization that he was supposed to be somewhere else, doing rather important things since they had a freaking race tomorrow.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean doze off like this… I was about to leave, but you know…”

In reality he wasn’t sure what had happened himself. He remembered wrapping himself in soft, comfortable bedding; burying his tired body in warmness and Esteban’s scent just for few moments and then… And then everything went black. He felt stupid for falling asleep like this – in someone else’s hotel room, with all of his clothes on. He tried getting up, but overpowering the urge to bury himself back into bed sheets wasn’t an easy task.

“I don’t mind”

“Wait… you _wanted_ me to leave.”

“The bathroom. Yes.”

“But… You’re okay with me… being here?”

“Yeah…”

Nico furrowed his brow. Trying to understand the kid was getting harder and harder, especially with his mind still clouded from sleeping for so long. But… who cares? At least everything was okay. _They_ were okay. Despite, he was too tired to give it a second thought anyway…

  _Just few more minutes…_

“Oh, and… uhmm…” Esteban started. “Thank you for the glasses.”

“Don’t mention. I know you need them for the race.”

“I always bring another pair… But still, thank you.”      

Nico shifted himself on the bed to find somewhat more comfortable position. He cursed himself for putting his jeans on in the first place – a lesson for next generations: never try sleeping in something made of denim.  

“Everything’s okay?” the younger man asked quietly with an honest concern in his voice. “You were saying things in your sleep…”

 “What kind of things?”

“Not sure… Something in German, I think . Are you alright?”

“Ja, it was just a… dream. A weird one, but still – just a dream” he wasn’t quite sure who he’d been trying to reassure – Esteban or maybe himself.       

 _The dream…_ Yes. Nico couldn’t recall experiencing something comparably… weird in his entire life. There was a blurry image of the raven imprinted in his mind. The dream itself wasn’t as terrifying, but the feelings… the way it all seemed so real, yet so illusory at the same time… He closed his eyes tightly and wished to forget. He had enough concerns of his own, he didn’t need his mind to create new ones.

_Change the subject._

“How are you feeling?”

“Better…” and Nico knew it wasn’t entirely true.

“How much better?”

A shrug of the shoulders. A silent sniff.

Nico sighed heavily. _Here we go again…_

The kid was locking himself up in a shell, blocking out the world around him. Nico knew this all too well. He’d done this a lot back in the days where they were starting out as teammates. When he’d screwed up a race, after he’d gotten told off by team principals… He would say that he was fine, head to his room and spend at least a couple of following hours there by himself.

But Nico had always known.

He could see right through fake smiles and dismissive shrugs. Yet he never tried to interfere. Everyone has a right to have their own private rituals and ways to deal with stressful situations and douchebags. Despite, it had never have anything to do with him in person so why would he bother?

That’s at least what he thought at the time…

“I gotta go…”

He tried getting up. _Empty words._ None of his muscles would react. It felt as if his body was unable to move; rooted to the spot. He knew there still were some things they needed to settle, but… was he even capable of doing that?

 _You suck at being a teammate. You suck at being a friend._  

“Estebbn, I’m sorry… I-I…” Nico trailed off.

There were so many things he wanted to apologize for. From the very beginning… He had tried so hard, yet still all he had managed to do was to fuck things up even more. It seemed as if he had been born incapable of interacting with other human beings.

He felt the younger man shift few inches closer, the warmness radiating from his body making Nico close his eyes. Esteban’s forehead pressed against the back of Nico’s neck. His breath was hot, but a quiet _“Do you have to go?”_ that came out in a soft whisper made shivers run down the German’s spine.

_Please, don’t make this any harder…_

“You know I have to. People will start looking for me eventually..”

“Esteban, come on. It’s not like I’m leaving for good. But we have an important day tomorrow” he turned around so he could face the other man. “Hey.. look at me.”

He took Esteban’s face in his hands and was surprised to see fresh tears forming in his eyes. Esteban blinked hard, obviously being ashamed of the state he was in, but Nico wasn’t getting any of this.

“What’s wrong?”

Esteban shook his head and tried to wriggle away. _Yeah, right…_

“I’m not blind, kid. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. It’s just…” he muttered.

Esteban looked as if he was about to finish the sentence, but then closed his mouth, obviously deciding against it and pressed his head to Nico’s chest instead. Nico contemplated continuing trying to persuade him into talking, but soon enough abandoned the idea. In the end it was in Esteban’s decision what he wanted to say and what he didn’t. There was no point in trying to force him.

With one hand entangled in Esteban’s hair, he used the other to rub gentle circles on the younger man’s back soothingly.

Phone buzzed somewhere near to him, making both of them jump in surprise.

“Schaiβe… Sorry…”

_What a great timing…_

“Shh… It’s probably nothing important.” He soothed as Esteban tried to look up.

He reached for the device without letting go of the Mexican. Even without checking, he already knew the caller’s name and seeing the lit up screen of his smartphone only confirmed his assumptions. _Florian._ Who else would it be?

Although it wasn’t a call.

The text was in German and it read: _‘Your room in 20. Better hurry. You managed to piss Mr. Wonka off._

“What is it?” Esteban asked, sensing the sudden nervousness.

“Uhmm… My manager… it’s…” his brain seemed to be incapable of forming a proper sentence. “Esteban, I’m really, really sorry, but… I have to go.”

He hated leaving like this. So abruptly. Without any proper explanation.

Yet on the other hand he had no other choice. He could allow himself to anger many people – Florian, Force India staff or even his own parents… But his manager? No. Willi Weber was an entirely different story.

It saddened him how fragile Esteban seemed standing there in the doorway. His eyes cast down, his body somehow thinner and smaller than before. Nico felt as if he was betraying the younger man, leaving him behind like this… And it saddened him how terrible he was at doing this _\- saying last good-byes…_ \- but be managed to ask:

“You sure you’ll be alright?”

“Yeah… I’m fine.”

_A shrug. A sniff._

And somehow it didn’t make Nico feel any better as he headed out, leaving the younger man all alone behind the closed door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *A poem by Juliusz Słowacki


	5. Meine Tür versperrt ein Eisenschloss…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important info: in this AU both Florian and Willy are still working with Nico. Just because...

“Obrigado!” Nico smiled warmly to the driver and handed him a generous wad of cash. “You keep the change.”

The man looked at him wide-eyed, yet didn’t question, taking the offered money without hesitation and driving away. Nico shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and watched the car disappear with a kind nostalgia nagging at him mercilessly. A sudden longing to be somewhere else… A desire, he knew, he could not fulfill… Discontentedness – a strong, persistent feeling; one, that he was slowly becoming used to…

He wished he’d been in that taxi instead, on his way back…

Nico had to admit the driver had made a great job with making it to the hotel in such short time, yet it certainly wasn’t the most pleasurable journey in his life. The drive itself made him anxious, edgy even. But was it entirely because of the bumpy roads and speeding on, what he considered, off-road? Or maybe there was something else that added to the uneasiness?...

Nico wasn’t afraid of Willy Weber.

He wasn’t.

After all, they were both grown –ups and strictly professional about what they did. What’s more, they’d worked together for… _hell_ , he wasn’t even sure for how long. Countless years. The man had guided him throughout his entire carrier; since the very beginning. He mustn’t had even been eighteen… After so much time, they had known each other like the backs of their hands; yet still, Nico couldn’t help himself but feel a little intimidated by the older man…

He could only hope for his manager not to be too inquisitive this time. And for Florian to be there as well.

With heart pounding loudly in his chest, he headed straight towards his hotel room.

***

Both men were already waiting for him in the corridor. Two silhouettes – dark and ominous – contrasted with the almost awe-inspiring brightness and tidiness of the interior. The tension was hanging in the air – so thick one could cut it with a knife, smoldering; burning without a fire and you could feel as it invaded your nostrils and filled your lungs with uneasiness; wounding and scarring the flesh with each inhale. Nico swallowed hard and smoothed the material of his shirt. He could feel it too – the nervousness building up somewhere in the pit of his stomach, despite all of his efforts to remain calm.

Weber was pacing back and forth with his arms folded behind his back – impatience was visible in each of his movements. An orange tie hung loosely around his neck, surprisingly matching with the elegant black jacket that was now unbuttoned and Nico wandered why on Earth he would be wearing something so neat.

The other of the two was crouched down by the wall and Nico knew it was bad because Flo wasn’t smiling…

One thing everyone knew about Florian Eschrich was that the man had always been cheerful – no matter how dire were the circumstances, he would grin and joke around, making everyone around him happier. He had always been like that – a ray of sunshine in a rainy day; the last stump of candle remaining in this shadowy world for everyone to have. It was just who he was; a part of his personality. And Nico wondered how serious the situation was for him to look so gloomy…

Flo seemed exhausted; drained of strength; void of life that he’d been once so full of. All of sudden he looked at least ten years older. So unlike himself... How much time had they spent waiting for Nico in this corridor? Dreading the answer, he cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound as much relaxed and laid back as possible, and started: “Hi! I-uhm sorry… Kind of lost the trace of time in the restaurant downstairs…” he joked, praying for his tone not to deceive him.

He would always joke in situations like this – a bright smile and a word of two to lighten up the mood. He was good at lying. He’d always been. For a racing driver and a public persona, it was his way to survive; a very own remedy for each troublesome occurrence on his way to success. And he only hoped that this time it’d be convincing enough as well.

Yet this time there was something more; something unsettling and unnerving, but for now impossible for him to put his finger on…

Willy turned around abruptly and looked directly at Nico. A shiver ran down his spine. If only a glare could kill... This single glance was more than enough to make all of the self-confidence he’d built around himself; like a fortified wall, to crumble. “Something’s wrong?…” he asked in a small, barely audible voice; trying to sound innocent.

“Shut up and open the door!” his manager hissed.

Nico opened his mouth and closed it again, deciding that it was safer to stay silent and swallowed hard instead. Reluctantly; like a convict about to face his punishment, he complied. It took a lot of strong will and the lost pride to surrender, but he did. He was the culprit and the time had come for his comeuppance. His hands felt weightless, unsteady, separated from his own body as he searched through the pockets of his jeans. He’d found  the keys with ease, but there was something else missing. And it was the lack of this _thing_  that made his heart skip a beat and gulp to form in his throat.

Scheiße, scheiße, scheiße…

His phone!

He must had left it in Esteban’s room.

Trying not to arise any suspicion, he opened the door and let the men inside. With a hint of apprehension he observed as Flo sat on the edge of the bed with a thud. Willy didn’t follow the suite, making Nico feel too uncomfortable - even despite the advantage in height he had over the older man - to sit down as well.

Weber’s face remained expressionless as he spoke, but his voice deceived the anger that lied beneath: “Now… where have you been?”

“Like I said – downstairs…”

“Bullshit!” the manager spat. “Restaurant, ha?” his voice was scornful, mocking almost and Nico varied between feeling offended at the man’s tone and too anxious to respond in any way. “The very same where you were supposed to have dinner with Vijay and the rest of the team? The very same where I’ve been waiting for you like a moron for more than two hours, making up excuses – no one believed that were true anyway – only to save your sorry ass?!  Is that what you’re trying to say?!”

Nico closed his eyes and took a deep breath. A litany of cuss words rushed through his mind. The story would have been perfect… if only he hadn’t forgotten that he’d been supposed to attend a fucking _official dinner_ the team was having this evening! A faint memory of Florian reciting his schedule for the day in the morning… There was something… Yes, about the dinner… Yet why was the memory so blurry in his mind? As if it hadn’t happen at all. As if it had been a part of a dream of his instead of reality… Was he losing his sanity?... It wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all. And Vijay would ask questions – a lot of questions which he couldn’t, under no circumstances, answer.

“Now, where the fuck have you been? And I want the truth…” this time Weber’s voice was calmer; but the calmness was superficial; skin deep only and each word was dripping with venom; deliberately designed to hurt deeper and more painfully.

Nico kept quiet. He didn’t try to diminish his faults. No. He wouldn’t do that. He knew that he’d fucked up, yet he couldn’t explain either. His head was throbbing and he tried not to think; to find this quiet, empty place in the greatest depth of his mind and stay there until it was all over… He casted his eyes down. Weber started pacing around again, getting more and more impatient with each passing second.

“You’ve been partying again, ha?” he started, trying to catch eye contact with Nico.He knew what the older man was talking about and it made him angry, because how could he be accused of something like that? He wasn’t like this anymore. He had changed. The version of him Weber was referring to was long gone. _Just… breathe. Focus on your breathing…_ “Getting drunk with those idiots?”

“I’m not drunk, Willy…” Nico murmured. The blood was boiling in his veins – each of the man’s words inciting him more.

Weber stopped in his tracks and stare at the younger man with curiosity. A different _kind_ of curiosity -  one that was solely scornful and full of malice. Each of the man’s words was full of spite and mockery and each of them brought Nico over the edge: “Then where have you been, _exactly_?”

Nico trembled with irritation.

“Listen, it’s not your business, okay?” the words left his throat against his will and he instantly gulped for air, as if trying to take them back before… before it was too late… He shouldn’t… “I…” 

A slap on his cheek hurt more than he’d thought it would.

Instinctively, he stepped back, covering the sore spot with his hand protectively. His skin felt as if it’d been set ablaze, but he knew that he had earned the hit. He should had known better than to talk back like this… He shouldn’t had set the man off... With his head hung low he whispered: “I’m sorry…”

“No, you’re not…” he cringed at the sharp edge in Weber’s voice. “You’re fucking not! And I’m sick and tired of having to deal with a spoiled brat like you! Who do you think you are, ha?”

“I’m sorry…”

“Shut your fucking mouth! I’m not finished yet. You should be grateful! You should be fucking grateful, _you twat…_ that I sit here, wasting my time on someone like you, instead of working with _real_ drivers!”

Nico smoothed the denim material of his jeans with the palms of his hands, not really knowing what else to do with them. He was right… Mr. Weber was right. He’d been reckless… Thoughtless… Worthless…  He should had been wiser than to disappear like this. Without a word… A night before the race… After all, it was not only him, but the entire team that was counting for – not a win of course – but a decent amount of points this weekend.

He felt small like this; standing in the middle of his hotel room. Exposed… Vulnerable... Without anyone to help him. Without a chance to defend himself nor an excuse. There weren’t any really… Two pairs of eyes were prying into him. Judgingly. Like predators… Burning holes in his skin. And all he could do was standing there idly, awkwardly… silently accepting his fate.

“And if you screw up tomorrow, because of this.. this stupidity – I promise, you’ll regret it.”

Nico looked at his physio briefly, seeking support, courage, anything… Flo was sitting on the very edge of the bed with his eyes cast down, looking away from the scene. Let down. Disappointed. Was he disappointed? Nico couldn’t tell… There was a familiar tingle in the corners of his eyes and he fought hard not to let the freshly formed tears fall down his cheeks. _Be a man, Hulkenberg!_ he cursed himself in his mind. _Don’t let them see how weak you are. Don’t humiliate yourself any further…_ There was a tiny part in him that still wanted to fight, to defend his rights; the last bits of dignity that refused to let go, yet it was pointless… wasn’t it?...

“Give me your phone” a shudder ran down Nico’s spine and he bit his bottom lip. “Where is your fucking phone?”

“I…” Nico shook his head, mentally preparing himself for another strike. “I don’t have it” his voice was calm as he spoke and it surprised him, because where did this confidence come from so suddenly?...

“Don’t even start…” Weber hissed through gritted teeth. “First you disappear without a trace for hours, you miss the dinner with Vijay and then you come here drunk in the middle of the night…”

“He’s not drunk” Flo interrupted quietly.

“Shut up! Nobody asked for your opinion. And then you try to tell me that you’ve lost your fucking phone?! You know what? I’m fucking done. Done. Understand? I’ve got enough problems on my own to deal with this shit.”

Nico swallowed hard. Could this day get any worse? He knew he’d screwed up and that there was no way he could fix it. But he wished, he hoped for this lecture to be finally over. He wanted to be able to defend himself somehow, but what was there left to say? There was no way on Earth he could mention Esteban. He cursed himself for leaving the damned device in the Mexican’s hotel room. If he only hadn’t fallen asleep… Idiotic... It was idiotic of him to act so thoughtlessly.

“Willy, I-uhm…” he started not sure what he was going to say, but was soon interrupted by the older man.

“I don’t fucking care! I don’t give a crap how you do this, but you better be good tomorrow. Damn good…” and with this he turned on his heal and left, closing the door shut behind himself with way more force than necessary.

He was gone. Just like that. Leaving two of them alone; dumfounded.

 

Drained of energy, Nico felt as if he was going to collapse any moment. “Nico…” he heard Florian’s soft voice as he stood up and approached him slowly, trying not to startle his protégé. A hand rested on his shoulder in a reassuring manner and Nico felt as if he couldn’t take much more. A single gesture; which he knew was meant to be comforting, turned out to be a catalyst; a final nail to his coffin. Walls around him crumbled. A single tear rolled down his cheek. Just one… He closed his eyes shut and turned his head to the side; away from the older man.

“Flo, I’m so sorry…”

Florian hugged him tightly. “Shh… Come on, let’s get you to the bed, okay?”

Nico complied wordlessly and collapsed onto the soft mattress. He was tired. Just… oh-so-terribly tired and all he wanted to do was to bury himself under the covers and never get out again. Never. He crawled across the bed and pressed his face against the pillows.

Memories rushed back to his mind. Memories of the previous weeks. How ridiculous was this entire situation? Before his eyes he saw himself and Esteban – kissing in a way no one should ever kiss, touching in a way no one should ever touch and thinking about things no one should ever think of. How hideous… How disgusting… He felt like throwing up all over again… But maybe, maybe it was just a dream; a nightmare of the worst kind, and he would simply wake up… Wake up and forget… He clenched his eyes against the soft material and wished to fall asleep, yet there it was – Florian’s voice – bringing him back to reality.    

“Nico, look… Are you listening?” Nico nodded sharply, without looking up. “This is none of my business and I know I shouldn’t interfere, but… Remember when we started working together? The one time when… was her name Katharina or…? You know what… It’s… not important. Just… remember that this guy works for you, okay? You’re his boss. Not the other way around…”

Nico groaned in frustration. He had no desire for having _this_ conversation all over again: “Flo, it’s…”

“Yes, I know – the best manager out there. _The Schumacher’s guy_ – you always say that. But don’t let him treat you like this. He has no right to…”

Florian cut off and fell silent. Nico considered his words for a moment. What if he was right? Part of him knew it was the truth, but there was another – a louder one – that told him it was a really bad idea… That he was supposed to be grateful. Willi Weber… – _Michael’s man_ … He could still remember the night when he’d received _the phone_ _call_. He could still see the pride in his father’s eyes. It was his chance; the only chance he would ever get, and he couldn’t just waste it. Not like that.

“He’s important…” he pressed. He wanted Flo to understand. To see the world through his eyes and just, for once, realize how difficult it was for Nico. “Very important.”

Flo sighed and rested his hand on Nico’s back, stroking gently. “I know, I know… It’s just… It’s your call. Just make sure you won’t regret it in the future… And now, will you tell _me_ what exactly happened? You know, you scared us a little. You could at least pick up your phone. For a brief moment I even considered calling the police! _Hello, yes, my driver has disappeared just before the race. And I don’t fancy driving myself so…_ ” Flo laughed softly at his own words and then continued in a more serious tone: “So, will you tell me what happened?”

Nico wished he could. There were so many things he wanted to tell Flo; so much weight resting on his shoulders like a burden… Yet he knew that he couldn’t. He trusted the older man with his life, but… he would not understand. No one would ever understand... Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he could understand himself... He shook his head. No. He heard Flo sigh right above his ear. The man’s fingers entangled in his hair, massaging the scalp ever so lightly. Nico exhaled prolongably and focused on his physio’s soft voice.

“Kid… what kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?” it was the kind of tone; the kind of _compassion,_ that Nico hated the most. Because it made him feel angry. Or maybe… guilty…?

“Flo, it’s not… not like that. It’s nothing serious. I swear…”

“Promise?” Nico nodded. It wasn’t like someone was threatening or blackmailing him. It was just… complicated, but he could deal with it on his own. Somehow. He had to…”But you know where your phone is, right? Or do I have to call the service to lock it down?”

“No, no. I’ll catch it tomorrow. Right after the race” he could do at least this much.

“Nico, what is it? A girl? I know that Brazilian chicks are pretty, but you know… Couldn’t she wait till tomorrow?” Florian laughed, but for Nico it didn’t seem even remotely as funny. The older man sensed the sudden change in Nico’s posture and decided to drop the subject. _Not yet…_

“Alright kid. I guess you probably want so alone time right now” he stated with a sigh and added quickly. “I’ll leave if you want… but I’m right next door if you feel the need to talk. We can skip today’s training session. It’s already dark outside anyway… Rest now and try not to get yourself into more trouble while I’m away, okay?”

Not waiting for the younger man to answer, he began gathering his things and headed for the door, only stopping just before reaching for the handle and turning back to Nico: “Oh, and Nico? Bradley has some data for you to go through before the race, I’ll drop it later. Just… pretend you’ve read it. He won’t notice. You know Bradley… Sleep tight and… don’t worry too much about stuff.”

A gentle thud of the door being closed and Florian was gone. Nico let out a breath he’d never realized he’d been holding and turned onto his back. Silence filled the room.

 

_Silence…_

Omnipresent and overwhelming. Not a sound to be heard except for his own, steady breathing. The beating of his heart. The throbbing of his pulse. And all of sudden he felt lonely. He hugged his arms and ached for another soul to lie beside him. But he’d wanted to be alone, hadn’t he? He’d asked Florian to leave. And no, it certainly wasn’t his physio that he wished to be with at the moment.

His mind drifted into places he’d never realized he longed for.

The eyes that were so large and dark. So deep and warm. His smile bright, his laugh soft and captivating. Infectious almost. His skin hot under his touch. Mindlessly, he licked his lips at the memories. Oh, the sweet memories. But… was it right? Was… what they’d done right? It couldn’t be. There were so many different reasons for them being together was wrong. So many people that could have something against this bond that he and Esteban had created. He knew for sure that it was wrong, but if so, then why the hell it felt so goddamn good at the same time?

He wasn’t even gay, was he?

He closed his eyes and sighed heavily. Why was everything so complicated?

His mind wandered to the past times. The better times. The ones, when everything had seemed easier; when the sun had shined brighter and the food tasted better. He smiled to himself. His mum’s food. Those dinners when the entire family gathered together on Sunday evenings. Right after the church. A plate full of mashed potatos and a Schnitzel so big he could barely eat it all by himself. He made a mental note to call his parents. He missed them. He truly did.

A brief thought crossed his mind. He wandered… How would they react? Would they like Esteban? Or maybe just the opposite… He imagined his mum greeting the Mexican with a warm smile… his dad putting an arm around him in a friendly gesture… And then he would show Esteban his old room; the place of his childhood… the farm… the sandy coast of Rhine… Why was he even thinking about things like this? It was so… ridiculous. Yet the thought never left him – like an _idée fixe_ it was recurring in his mind; never letting him rest.

And with this thought, he fell into a deep, relentless slumber.

He’d never heard Florian coming to his room later that night. He’d never woken up when the older man left the files on his nightstand nor he noticed as Flo watched him carefully for a couple of minutes; sighting heavily and covering his bare shoulders with a blanket with an almost motherly care…

***

Nico wandered across the paddock, a helmet in one hand and a steering wheel in the other. His overalls were undone – the sleeves tied loosely around his hips. His mind was focused. Determination… - or was it desperation? – led him onwards; towards the destination. Passers-by eyed him with curiosity, yet he kept on marching; ignoring them all.

The world around him became vague, dreamlike… lacking in significance. Lights of the flashes. Chatter of the crowd, muffled by the deafening roar of the engines. Mechanics rushing about with various parts and tools. Reporters and cameras trying to get their way to the drivers. Nico was right there – among all of those people, yet somewhat far away at the same time.

“Nico…? Nico Hulkenberg!” a tall, blond girl appeared right in front of him. In addition to a bright-coloured vast, which was a part of the required protective equipment, she was wearing high-heels and an ingenuine smile plastered to her face. “Can I ask you a couple of questions?”

Nico sighed and looked around. She wanted his time, yet it was time he was lacking the most.

_The clock was ticking…_

“Sorry…” he smiled, hoping it was convincing enough and added, already beginning to walk away: “It’s quite late… Maybe next time.”

Fortunately, Sauber’s garage wasn’t that far away from his own.

Esteban was standing in the far corner, chatting with one of his mechanics. He was fiddling with the sleeves if his overalls, struggling to keep them in place. _Narrow hips…_ Nico smiled to himself and started going towards the younger man, yet there were barriers – the ones that separate the team from the unauthorized people right before the start – that prevented him from moving any further. _Sheiβe…_ he swore under his breath and stood on his tiptoes to see through the crowd of people that was gathering inside.

“Esteban!” he shouted, hoping to catch the younger man’s attention.

The Mexican looked around, seemingly confused, yet couldn’t find the source of the calling. Soon he was continuing his conversation with a man Nico didn’t recognize.

“Esteban!” he repeated, only louder this time; gaining a couple of strange looks from the passers-by. “Hey!”

And this time Nico was certain that Esteban had heard him. For a brief moment their eyes met. Like a deer caught in the headlights, Esteban stared directly at the German. And what baffled Nico the most was the fact that there was a kind of nervousness; a faint hint of apprehension in his expression; almost as if he was expecting something bad to happen… as if he was _afraid_ … Esteban’s cheeks turned red and he looked down; away from the German. He said a couple of words Nico didn’t catch and excused himself, hurrying to the back area where the drivers’ rooms were placed.

Nico didn’t hesitate any longer and followed him, ignoring the damned barriers and curious looks.

“Esteban!” Nico called at the exact moment the Mexican reached for the handle to his quarter. “Wait!”

Esteban stopped in his tracks, yet never turned around. His posture remained alarmed; somewhat daunted; each of his muscles tense and his shoulders hunched slightly. Nico furrowed his brow, because in his mind it seemed so unlike the younger man. What caused this peculiar nervousness? And it only added to the confusion when the Mexican jerked away from the touch when Nico tried to rest a hand on his shoulder.

“Esteban…?” he asked softly, trying to keep his voice at a steady level, but failing miserably. Something was wrong. It had to be…

Reluctantly, the younger man turned around. He had no other choice really – being trapped between a wall and the tall German towering over him and expecting some kind of an explanation. He swallowed hard, stubbornly trying to avoid the eye contact. Nico observed him carefully. Something had changed – Esteban certainly wasn’t the same person from yesterday…  _He_ had changed…

“Hello...” the German didn’t know what else to say. Something had distorted between them – all of sudden there was a wall separating one from the other; a fortification Nico did not know how to conquer. Even though Esteban was right there – standing in front of him – he was somewhat distant; out of the German’s reach. There was a lock of steel that guarded the younger man and Nico feared that he didn’t have the key…

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked in a serious tone.

Esteban said nothing – the almost subconscious act of biting his bottom lip remained the only prove that he had indeed heard the German. The was a hint of stubbornness in the gesture – as if deep down he wanted to reply, but there was something… (his pride? No… it could not be his pride…) preventing him from doing so…

“Nothing” he stated dismissively. “Just-uhm… I need to get ready for the race…”  _I want to be left all alone,_ his thoughts were speaking louder than his words and Nico got the message. Yet again, he was unwanted. Too pragmatic and too inquisitive… Maybe… maybe coming here wasn’t such a good idea after all? Maybe his imagination had twisted the reality once again and the bond between them wasn’t as… close as he had thought it was after all…

“Esteban…”

“No, just…” the Mexican never finished his sentence as he looked up – quite accidentally – and his eyes met Nico’s.

Nico returned the gaze. Esteban’s brow was furrowed; confusion painted on his features. Why was he confused?... Was it something Nico had said or done – recklessly; in the heat of a moment; never thinking about the consequences… (He would often do something like that and regret afterwards…) Esteban’s brown orbs were huge, enormous even… Like a timid animal he stared at the German with a kind of apprehension; awaiting his reaction and at that moment Nico decided that he wouldn’t give up just like that. Looking into those eyes, how could he?

“Please…” he whispered, not sure what he was pleading for.  _Please, give me something… Anything… So I would be able to understand…_

Esteban shook his head and took a step back, pressing his back against the door. His eyes glimmered and he blinked hard a couple of times. Something was shining in his eyes. Were they tears? But why…  _What changed?_  Nico wanted to ask, but the words never escaped his throat. Too many times he had made the younger man cry and it was almost surprising how great impact it had over him… There had to be a way…

Nico decide to take the chance – as if it’d been the only chance he might ever get – and closed the distance between them.

It wasn’t even a kiss.

Just a mere touch of the lips… a brief brush against the delicate skin… but it was more than enough for Nico. Heat was radiating from the Mexican’s body, making Nico shiver with anticipation. He made a step closer – just a tiny step, nothing more – so he could inhale the younger man’s scent; the scent that was so strange yet so familiar at the same time; the scent that he’d never realized how much he’d been missing. He yearned for the closure, he wanted to wrap his body around Esteban’s and never let him go, yet his hunger was insatiable; impossible to appease. Why did it feel so  _right_ …? At this very moment, it didn’t matter that they were standing in the middle of a motorhome; that that could be walked on any minute…

Esteban was unresponsive, but he’d never tried to push the German away. He waited patiently until Nico parted and blushed madly under the taller man’s gaze. His head was crooked to the side and he was looking at Nico’s feet idly; unable to look up.

“Shatz…” the German whispered without giving it a second thought. At the moment it just seemed to be the most natural thing to say. All the thoughts from the previous night were long forgotten. All the dilemmas and scruples… All of them – gone… Just like that…

Esteban blushed even more and a smile – the slightest and the most delicate of smiles – appeared on his face. It was so subtle; barely noticeable at all, yet it meant the world to Nico and he couldn’t help himself but smile as well.

“Esteban…” he started again, feeling slightly more confident. “This what happened yesterday was…”

“No, no need to…”

“Yes, I do. I _want_ to. I just want you to know that…” billions thought were rushing through his mind, yet he couldn’t seem to form any. His mouth opened and closed again a couple of times, yet he couldn’t make his tongue work properly. His mouth felt dry; as if it was filled with sand… And he just wanted Esteban to understand… There had to be something he could; or should, say…

“I know” Esteban interrupted. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry..”

Nico opened his mouth to protest. This was not… what he’d meant. And _fault?..._ _Fuck… Get yourself together, Nico. It’s just a conversation. But if so… why is it so damn hard?..._ “No. It’s not like…”

All of sudden Esteban’s eyes widened. He was staring somewhere behind the German and Nico was just about to turn around when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Then _what_ is it, Nico?” Adrian’s voice made him jump. It was stern and harsh – so unlike the older driver. He took a couple of deep breaths before turning to his former teammate. He felt as if being caught red-handed; like a thief spotted with his pockets full of stolen goods. But… it wasn’t like he’d done something wrong, was it? Then why were his cheeks burning and his hands sweating?…

“Adrian, what… what are you doing here?”

“It’s my team’s garage” his fellow countryman stated bluntly, yet Nico couldn’t fight the feeling that there was something else in his tone. “…and I believe that it’s only natural for me to be here just before the race.”

Adrian crooked his head to the side, observing him carefully. He was fuming – Nico saw it in the way his eyes glimmered with fury. He’d known the man too well not to notice. Adrian had never liked to externalize his emotions, yet there were signs – these subtle signs that only a person that had known him for a long time could recognize – which showed how he felt at the moment. And at the moment he was angry – there was no doubt about that – yet the question was: _why_?

His stubborn nature took over and Nico decided to add fuel to this fire : “Not you’re part of the garage” he added firmly.

“Well, not _yours_ either” Adrian smirked with satisfaction. “What are _you_ doing here?”

_Good question…_ He had no other choice than to lie and he had to make this lie as believable as possible. “I was just looking for…”

“This?” Adrian interrupted and reached into his pocket, taking out a smartphone and handing it to Nico. The younger man’s eyes widened in shock, because he had indeed recognized the device. But how could he… “Here you go. Have it. Now…” Adrian turned his attention to the Mexican who was standing awkwardly in the very same spot and observing the conversation with a kind of anxiousness. “Esteban, go inside...”

“No” Nico interjected almost automatically. He didn’t know why he’d said it, but… there was something in Adrian’s voice – the firmness with which he was turning to Esteban; the way his words resembled more an order than anything else – that made him lose his cool. Anger was building up inside of him and wasn’t sure why…

“No what?” Adrian challenged.

Nico gritted his teeth and hissed: “Let _him_ decide.”

Adrian looked the younger German straight in the eye, but Nico held the gaze with pride. It was a fight for dominance – almost animalistic in its simplicity, and Nico decided that he wouldn’t give up just like that. Something was taking over his body… a primal instinct which he somehow couldn’t resist. Adrian’s eyes were stern; unforgiving, and Nico hoped that they were matching his own. Adrian never looked away as he spoke, encouraging the Mexican to make a decision and yet somehow  still concentrating on Nico: “Esteban…”

Esteban shifted his weight from one foot to the other with uneasiness. He was looking between the two men, seeking… awaiting a sign of some sort… anything… Deciding that there was nothing to find, he looked up at Nico. For a single moment their eyes met – just a brief exchange of glances; nothing more – yet this mere moment was enough to add to the German’s confusion.

Esteban’s eyes were apologetic; burning with shame. He mouthed a silent “sorry” (or did he? Nico wasn’t sure…). Looking at Nico one last time, he reached for the handle and shrugged – more to himself than anyone else; as if trying to reassure himself. For a moment, it seemed as if his eyes began to water; as if he might change his mind, but then he left. Just like that. Without ever looking back. The barely audible click of the door being closed made Nico flinch.

“See?” Adrian’s words cut through the silence. Nico clenched his fists around his helmet in anger with so much force he feared the plastic might break. Was Adrian trying to prove his point? Was he trying to bring Nico over the edge? No… But why would he do that? There was no reason… “I think you should better go, as well, Nico. Otherwise you are going to be late.

Nico wanted to move, but there was no strength left in his body. He looked straight into the other man’s eyes as if trying to find answers.

“Naturally, you understand that…” Adrian started calmly yet never had a chance to finish.

“Fuck you!” Nico spat.

No, he did not understand. Why was he suddenly treated like an enemy? Not more than a day ago they would joke around and chat so casually with each other and now… What had happened? What had changed over the night? Maybe… Somewhere, deep down, Nico knew what the problem was, but he refused to accept it; he refused to believe it was true… He had chosen not to know.

He had chosen to…

“You know nothing…” he stated, not sure himself if he had said those words out loud. “You…” … _should not interfere into something you have no clue about…_

Suddenly he felt a hand around his wrist and heard a familiar voice behind his ear:

“Nico…” Florian was breathing heavily and holding some of Nico’s belongings. “Thank God… The whole team is looking for you. Why do you always have to disappear like that, ha? Come on. Chop-chop… We’ve got a job to do, right?”

Without much of a protest; numbly almost, Nico let his physio lead him back to the Force India garage, but he wasn’t able to properly focus on the race – the atypical conversation with Adrian was repeating in his head like a broken record. Over and over again.

_Maybe he had chosen not to know…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 80 years later...  
> I know it's been a while, but I've decided that I couldn't just give up on this story. There is a looot more to come. Thank you everyone for your patience, especcially big huges to my Muse (*blink* you know who you are) for putting up with me this whole time.


	6. Heimweh

A mind that was like a shore, its cliffed coast forever tortured by the tidal movement; tormented by recurring waves of hatred and pain, inciting; ripping off fragments of the form, which was once a whole, with their putrefying claws; piece by piece tearing it apart. The ongoing circle would never end nor the ache would cease for love – as any other natural process – was unstoppable. Once infected, the soul would slowly decay; devoured and rotted from the inside. A disease, for which there was no cure; no remedy, for the damage it caused was at all times irreversible; leaving wounds impossible to heal and scars that were never to fade. 

What kind of peculiar force it took to bond two minds in such unique and uncomprehensive way? Whose was the invincible hand that pushed one soul towards the other so irresistibly? And why was it so difficult to understand…

Love and hate – two contradictions that were forever joined. The eternal danse macabre; celestial oxymoron designed to mock naïve human hearts and to inflict pain to the innocent and the uncontaminated. How cruel was Mother Nature? Two powerful feelings, borderline between which was thin; unnoticeable almost and so easy to omit.

_You are my Moon – the only source of light; guiding me through the darkness and yet forever unsettling; disrupting and disturbing the sea of thoughts and desires. Once formed; the storm shall never cease – just like my troubled soul shall never find peace._

***

The interior smelled of cheap cigars and alcohol. Thick smoke filled the room like a mist, making it almost impossible to see or to breathe. Drunken chatter and laugh that was too loud – all blended into one, incoherent noise. Attractive women in miniskirts brought the guests glasses with something that was most likely vodka. Nico felt thirst building up inside of him. Yes, that was exactly what he needed…

He was glad that he’d agreed to come. After such difficult time the past two weeks had turned out to be, coming to a place like this seemed like a nice change.

He had never given up trying to get in touch with Esteban. From the very first day, right after the Brazilian Grand Prix, he’d been doing everything he could to contact him, but the young Mexican was unreachable. Almost as if he’d been deliberately avoiding the German and Nico had to admit that it hurt. It hurt as hell, because he couldn’t think of a reason of such strange behavior.

He hadn’t spoken with Adrian either. The fellow countryman wouldn’t pick up his phone and it was unnerving Nico even more, because he didn’t know what exactly he had done to upset his friend. Why was the whole world turning its back on him all of sudden?

Having felt at the verge of coming undone, he decided to visit the only place on Earth where he could forget about all of these problems and finally be able to find his peace – home.

Emmerich was beautiful at this part of the year. Colorful trees reflecting in the steady waters of Rhine. The smell of fish and Polish cuisine hanging thick in the air. The life itself somehow more peaceful. Even the time was passing slower, barely noticeable at all. He’d thought it would help; that it would make him feel a bit better…

It hadn’t.

Everyone seemed so distant, so foreign and he just couldn’t bring himself to have a relaxed conversation with neither of his parents. Even his mother’s food tasted differently, strangely even… as if it was missing something…

Each night he would toss and turn – his sleep restless, no matter how early he went to bed. The nightmares had never stopped. They had been tormenting him ever since the very first time; when he’d fallen asleep at Esteban’s. The details varied, but the feelings remained the same every time – the overwhelming helplessness and apprehension of something bad – something he yet did not understand – happening. And each morning he would wake up exhausted, with ragged breath and a layer of cold sweat covering his skin. Wishing he hadn’t woken up at all.

During the day he was a mere shadow of the man he’d used to be. Something was changing and it was frightening because he didn’t know what exactly. He wished he could be his old self again; just to forget and move on with his life – but there was something preventing him from doing so…

He’d spent a weekend at his patents’ – that was as much as he could take. After having excused himself with the need to visit the factory before Abu Dhabi, he had come to his house in Switzerland and had been more than relieved to receive a phone call from Jean-Eric, inviting him to go out with ‘the guys’ on the Saturday night.

Nico was content with the Frenchman’s choice of club for their meeting. The Albertina Passage was situated in an old, desolated metro station in the center of Vienna; which gave it a nice touch of bravura and an unique atmosphere, while keeping the place private and isolated from the outside world at the same time. And  _that_  was exactly what he needed at the moment – privacy; a quiet and peaceful place where he could finally focus on something else than his own miserable being and meet up with friends he hadn’t seen in a while. Just a brief break for a breath before he had to go back to work.

Frankly speaking, Jean-Eric hadn’t specified whom  _the guys_  included, yet it certainly wasn’t something to worry about – he and Nico had known each other long enough to share a rather large group of friends. Despite, he wasn’t sure if he cared at all. As long as they were talkative and didn’t ask too many questions, he was fine with it.

A gentle sound of jazz music was coming from the stage in the middle. The song was dynamic, yet not aggressive – so unlike the usual club tunes. Each note caressed his ears with tenderness, delicately hitting the flesh and making it almost a physical experience. Saxophone… drums… bass… - all combined and yet separated from one another; enriched by the soothing sounds of piano. Nico closed his eyes for a moment. Even though the band was yet out of his sight, he could see those fingers dancing across the keys in his imagination; fingertips merely brushing the smooth surface as if it was almost humane and not artificial. Nico’s own fingers itched for the sensation; for the skin so warm and lively; responding; just like the piano was reacting beneath the musician’s experienced hands…

No. 

Not the time nor place for such thoughts. Nico sighed deeply and began looking around the interior in search for the familiar faces.

Jean-Eric had thoughtfully chosen a table in the very back of the club, separated from the other guests by large, yet subtle screens. The Frenchman was sitting on a comfortable-looking settee, a colorful drink in his hand and a broad grin plastered on his face. At first he hadn’t noticed Nico; deeply engaged in a conversation with a busty brunette the German didn’t recognize. Giedo was sitting nearby, idly playing with his car keys, and it was him whom Nico turned to, pointing at the couple:

“Am I interrupting something?”

The Dutchman sighed and rested his chin on his hands in an almost theatrical manner. “Don’t worry. They’ve been at it for the past hour. I don’t think it’s physically possible to interrupt them…”

“Mind your own business, eh?” Jean-Eric remarked, trying to sound offended but failing miserably. His words were slurred; poorly pronounced and marked with a thick French accent – an obvious sign of him being drunk. Already. “And ça va, Nico? Been waiting for you. Come on, sit. This… is Fabienne.”

Nico greeted the girl with a frown and sat right next to the pair, throwing his jacket on the settee and making himself comfortable. Fabienne was quite good-looking, he noted with mild interest, slightly younger than the Frenchman; with fine body and large, dark eyes. She was smoking a tipped cigarillo and fiddling with a glass of an expensive-looking wine. Her white dress was riding up and showing the most of her thighs as she adjusted her position, turning her attention to Nico.

“So… you’re the Nico, aren’t you?” she spoke seductively; with a cut-glass accent typical for people from the higher social classes. She certainly wasn’t here for the money and Nico doubted if her being interested in Jean-Eric was the case either. What was her aim then? Prestige? Popularity? She licked her bottom lip and smiled distinctly. “Tell me, where is your girlfriend… Nico?”

The German shrugged, but returned the smile, trying to make it as charming as possible. So that’s what she wanted… He looked her up and down, feeling a fresh wave of… disgust building up in his stomach. Why did she seem so repulsive… so hideous and abhorrent in his eyes? It’s not like she was somewhat different from all of the other girls Nico had met in his life... Maybe he simply wasn’t drunk enough. Yes, that probably was the case. It had to be.

“Who knows?,” he teased. “Haven’t met her yet.”

The girl inched closer, her body brushing against Nico’s and her hot breath hitting his cheeks. She grinned, showing a set of straight white teeth and whispering into his ear: “Who knows? Maybe you did…”

Her hand travelled across his thigh. Inch after inch, her fingertips moved upwards… Dangerously so… Nico crunched his nose at the smell of liquor and overused perfume. This was not how he was supposed to feel… It was supposed to be pleasurable…  His eyes caught the sight of Jean-Eric who seemed to be too lost in folding the napkin… or maybe it was just his drunken state… to notice. There had to be a way out…

Nico turned to the Dutchman.

“How are the things going, Giedo?” he addressed his friend, deliberately ignoring the intrusive woman. She made a quiet whining noise – disappointed, as her efforts went unnoticed – and moved away eventually, focusing back on her not-quite-sober partner. “I’ve heard the news. Sorry…”

“Eh, no worries. Not the only one,” he said, pointing at the Frenchman.” Despite,  _I_ , am going to drive next year.”

Nico looked at Jean-Eric in disbelief. Something wrong was going on with the Formula One. In a way, he had predicted some of this; he had  sensed the upcoming apocalypse hanging in the air. The storm clouds had been gathering above the sport for long, maybe even longer than his own carrier, but now it seemed dangerously close to falling down… to falling apart. So many drivers had lost their seats, despite having active contracts… It was unbelievable. But, Jean-Eric? Wasn’t he supposed to get a seat in Redbull? “What the hell?”

“Qui, it sucks. But listen to this idiot’s plan. He thinks, no…  _claims_  he can fight the system.”

Giedo sneered at the retort.

“Fight  _and_  win,” he stated with confidence in his voice. “You’ll change your mind when it works. I’ve already talked with my lawyer…”

Nico furrowed his brow. He opened his mouth to ask, but had to grit his teeth as Fabienne cut in, clinging to the Jean-Eric’s arm. “Baby, where are the drinks?”

“One moment, mon chéri…”

Deciding to ignore the pair, he encouraged Giedo to start talking again. “Lawyer?”

“That’s right. They are not getting rid of me so easily.” 

“Think it might work?”

Giedo shrugged and took a last sip of his wine, emptying the glass and putting it aside. He smiled, but Nico couldn’t help the feeling that there was something  else underneath this smile - some kind of sadness, and yet the realization that he had no other choice than to have faith. It was his last resort; the very last thread of hope which he’d been clinging so desperately to. Yet Nico knew that the thread, sooner or later, would break. All of them – Giedo, Adrian and, yeah… Esteban as well. Nico cringed at the thought. The way Sauber had treated the drivers hadn’t been fair, to say the least. Hell, he had experienced it on his own skin, but… He would have never considered taking it to the court. He doubted the Dutchman stood a chance. It was an international brand he was fighting against after all.

The music became more lively and Nico let his thoughts flow with it. Maybe there was no point in trying… but it was the only thing they could do.

“And you?” he asked Jean-Eric. “Any plans?”

The Frenchman shrugged. “Who knows? More important things to do. Now… Where did he go, ha? Branleur…”

Nico looked at him questioningly and Fabienne laughed. “Charles, you silly...” she stated, just a little too loudly.

Searching through a list of familiar Charles’ in his memory, Nico decided that there was only one answer.  

“Oh…” was all he had come up with.

It’s not like he didn’t like Charles – in fact, he barely knew the man. For some strange reason, Jean-Eric had always insisted on bringing him everywhere they went. Nico had never questioned. Most of the times, he’d simply been too drunk to care. Despite, the young Frenchman had never been the most… sociable type - he had rarely talked with anyone…

“And how are _you_ doing?” Giedo’s words brought Nico out of his haze.

“Ha?” he asked slightly confused. How was he doing? Now, that was a good question. If only Nico knew the right answer…

There were so many things going on in his life at the moment, so many strange thoughts rushing through his mind with the speed of light… Changes. His body seemed to be evolving in both physical and psychological way, although it was a much more abrupt process to call it an evolution. Revolution – that seemed to be slightly more accurate. A storm in its apogee – harvesting the last remains of his old self and leaving nothing but a havoc.

Chaos.

This was how he’d been doing.

Instead he smiled, shrugged: “Quite alright, I think,” and hoped it to be believable enough.

For a moment the Dutchman looked as if he was about to reply something, but furrowed his brow, having obviously forgotten what he’d wanted to say. Was it the alcohol rushing through his veins or just the usual clumsiness? Oh Giedo…

“About the fucking time…”

Nico looked up, startled at Jean-Eric’s sudden change of tone only to see Charles approaching their table, balancing a tray full of various drinks in his hands. Well-fitting jeans, shirt in a bright shade of violet. Or was it roseate? Blonde stubble and somewhat messy hair, despite the obvious efforts to keep them in a reasonable tidiness. Avant-garde. Nonchalant. And subtle. In a way, everything about the younger man was subtle – his eyes, his smile, the constant flush on his cheeks and even his voice; marked with a smooth accent and barely audible over the sounds of music.

“Sorry, it’s just…” he tried to put the tray down, but his movements were awkward. And having gotten distracted after noticing the presence of the German didn’t help at all. “Oh-uhm… Hi Nico. Nice to…”

Subtle. Shy almost.

“Where are the goods?” Jean-Eric interrupted, giving him a helping hand and searching through the glasses with a poorly hidden curiosity.

“Here. The bartender said it’s good. Oh, and seen him on my way here. Said he wanted to ask about the band… Will come right back.” _Him…_

“Perfect!” Jean-Eric exclaimed, yet Nico was quite certain his excitement had been caused more likely by an unopened bottle of Sambuca he had just noticed among ‘the goods’ rather than by Charles’ words. Soon enough, the Frenchman had been joined by Giedo who absent-mindedly reached for one of the glasses and accidentally toppled one of them over and spilled some of the drink onto the tray and the table. Still giggling at the Dutchman’s poor attempts, Nico asked, somewhat intrigued by Charles’ previous explanation: “Seen who?”  

The younger man looked at him; confused, and stated as if it had been the most goddamn obvious thing on the planet:

“Uhm… Adrian.”

***

Numb.

Deafening silence rang in his ears with an exception for one name; _this fucking name_ , echoing in his head. Silence. The eye of the hurricane. Petrifying. Rotting him to the very spot.

This couldn’t be true.

But then again, why should he be bothered?

***

Subsequently, _he_ had appeared. Tall and confident. Looking down and making Nico feel impossibly small despite the common sense telling him how ridiculous it was. An exchange of glances. A moment of mutual recognition and a silent agreement – not to make a scene in front of everybody. Something strange flashed across the older German’s face. Something cold and calloused; something rejective in his movements as he sat down, turning his side to Nico and exchanging a couple of hushed words with Giedo.

Something about the band. Something unimportant.

Blood was boiling inside of Nico’s veins. How dared he? He wasn’t even a drinker. Not anymore. Not after… _that_ happened. Why would he want to come to a club like this? And, more importantly, why on Earth would Jean-Eric ask him to join? It’s not like he and Adrian had anything in common. A son of the _Münchner Philharmoniker_ musicians and a regular guy who liked to go out with his friends on Saturday nights and have fun. Classiness and the type of _‘anything as long as it’s booze’_ approach. Not the best combination.

_That’s not true. It’s not like it’s the first time Adrian had been invited. Nothing unusual about it…_

“No, I don’t think so... Switzerland. I’m quite sure the vocalist mentioned… Not bad actually. Yes. Definitely. Switzerland. But they do seem quite… Similar to the other guys…” Fragments. Ripped-off sentences; lost in the clamour of the crowd. Irrelevant and insignificant. Jean-Eric switched to French, focusing exclusively on his conversation with Fabienne and sipping from his refilled glass. Nico wanted to say something – anything to stop the damned chatter – but his mind was blank. What had ever happened to his famous sense of humor?

“How’s Jennifer?” he asked Adrian. Softly, and yet loudly enough for the other men to catch. Why not grab the bull by its horns?

“Good.” A barely noticeable hint of malice and a smile that crept across his mouth, yet never reached his eyes. “Very good.” And then he turned back to Giedo, laughing kind-heartedly at something the Dutchman had said moments ago. 

Ignored. Nico felt the anger welling up inside; threatening to spill over. He didn’t like the feeling. Not the slightest bit. Not now, when he had no idea what was the cause of Adrian’s behavior. Or maybe he did… After all… But, no. _Just… don’t go there._ ‘Any company would do’ – yeah right… He was beginning to think that staying in his own apartment instead wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. He reached for one of the glasses, not bothering to check what it was, and took a deep swing; feeling the familiar burn as the liquid ran down his throat. It had been a while…

“Tiens... Here. Try this one.” Nico stared at a glass of something colorful Jean-Eric shoved right into his hands, uncertain. “Is good. Just try.”

Hesitantly, Nico took a mouthful, feeling the stuff scald his taste buds and irritate each and every one of his nerve endings. Good. At least it was strong. Strong enough to hopefully let him at least partially enjoy himself.

To forget.

The rest of the evening passed in an idyllic haze. His thoughts were foggy. Intoxication deafening all the senses. But most of all, silencing the voice inside. He knew it wouldn’t end well. The buzzing in his skull and the recurring waves of nausea were merely a pre-taste of the agony which would have come by the morning after, but fuck it, he thought, that was exactly what he needed.       

Adrian kept disappearing every now and then. To get more drinks, to chat with the damned band, to make a phone call - only to return to his light-hearted tête-à-tête with now hardly awake Dutchman… He seemed to be in all of places at once and it was aggravating. His behavior challenging more than anything else. But the stubbornness of Nico’s nature took over and he decided that he couldn’t let the other man provoke him. No. He was better than that. Stronger.

Not knowing when and how, Nico found himself gazing over at Charles. The younger Frenchman was looking down at the table – his long, slender fingers tapping the wooded surface rhythmically. Idly. He seemed to be lost in his own world. The glass in front of him nearly untouched. Nico frowned: “You not drinking?”

“Qui…” Charles faltered, his voice hardly above whisper and almost inaudible. Nico was about to repeat his question, not sure if he’d heard anything at all and then Charles smiled, coyly, and added: “I do. Drink, I mean. Only… slower?” Unsure. Words sounding more like a question. He tilted his head to the side as Nico flashed him his most reassuring smile – his expression unreadable. There was still something about him which Nico couldn’t grasp, but maybe the kid wasn’t so bad after all?

Having heard their small exchange, Jean-Eric commented, laughing to himself: “Pourquoi? You in love or what, Charles?”

Just a silly banter between friends – nothing more – but still, Charles cheeks turned bright pink and he looked away, which only caused a burst of laughter from Jean-Eric and a wide grin from Nico. Charles seemed baffled at first, but a weak smile ghosted over his lips. He had a really nice smile, Nico reckoned and shook his head at the ridiculousness of the idea. Since when do you consider other men’s smiles as ‘nice’? Charles casted a brief glance at Jean-Eric, looking from under thick eyelashes, only to focus back on the glass in his hands. Blushing.

 A thought crossed Nico’s mind, but it was gone almost as quickly as it came.

_You are imagining things._

Or maybe not? It wasn’t his business anyway.

The evening continued like this. Lots of food, some small talk, but thankfully also good chat with the majority of their group. Nico felt rather merry by the time it was getting late: fed to satisfaction, laughing about stupid jokes, telling tales of his ‘adventurous’ journeys to Thailand and Bali last summer, while glasses with whatever Jean-Eric kept shoving into his hands put him into a damn fine mood. It gave the impression of an ideal evening. Almost.

If only….

Adrian seemed to be enjoying himself as well, despite not having exchanged a single word with Nico. As if the other German hadn’t been there at all. Unheeded; noticed and heard but still disregarded. Ignored. And, somewhere deep down – regardless of Nico’s efforts and struggles to keep his cool -  it was pissing him off.

After a while Adrian excused himself with a need to go to the bathroom and Nico decided to take his chances.

***

As Nico had figured out, the restroom was situated at the opposite area of the club. Finding his way through the crowd of inebriates; dancing and gathering in different groups around the interior, made him realize that he, himself, was drunk as well. The loud chatter, the slightly dim lights and those damned fingers dancing across the piano keys had all turned into one, unbearable sensation. His head was spinning and for a moment he had thought that he might throw up. A quick reminder not to ever let Jean-Eric mess with his drinks ever again…

The intoxication was vivifying and stupefying, yet there was something else underneath; adding to the anxiousness. Maybe it was the realization that something was off… The confirmation of what he had dreaded the most… Or maybe… Maybe it was the confrontation that he was about to face…

A shiver ran down his spine when his hand met the cool metallic surface of the door handle.

But, yet again, this was not how he was supposed to feel.

After all, none of it was his fault, wasn’t it? It was Adrian who had been acting strangely. It Adrian who had been avoiding him for no apparent reason. Why on Earth should he feel guilty? With this very thought on mind and an reassuring exhale, Nico pressed the handle.

He stormed into the bathroom only to find Adrian propped up against the sink. The interior was  quite specious and yet the black-painted walls created an almost claustrophobic impression. An enormous mirror hang above the sinks, reflecting both Nico and Adrian, who had either not noticed the younger man’s presence or decided to ignore it, which only added to his irritation. Nico clenched his fists. He was fit to be tied and yet… he wasn’t sure what to say.

Adrian left the water running and stared at his own reflection in the mirror. Was he waiting for the younger man to make the first move or was he simply indifferent to his presence? And it was this utter obliviousness which brought Nico over the edge.

“Why did you come here? You don’t even drink…” he asked with irritation. In German – somehow it seemed easier to stick to his mother tongue. Adrian only clenched his jaw stubbornly, his knuckles turning white from holding onto the sink. “So you could ignore me?”

_No answer._

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he growled, but Adrian didn’t even blink. His expression was blank; void of any emotions… There were no signs to indicate that he had indeed heard Nico, which only set the younger man off even further. Not caring if they might be heard by other guests, he continued, never realizing when he had started shouting: “First you act as if I was some kind of a criminal and then you ignore me like this! This is childish, you hear me? It’s fucking childish! And you’ve never… Not… Not like you! What is wrong with you?”

Feeling slightly out of breath, he added; only quieter this time: “What did  _I_  do?”

Adrian raised an eyebrow, but never turned around. Nico wasn’t sure whether he was looking at his own or Nico’s reflection.

“And you still have the effrontery to ask?”   

The voice was cold, just as was his expression. It froze Nico to the bone. It made him look down; at his feet, and consider fleeing; right then and there… But he didn’t. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever heard a tone so harsh coming from the fellow driver… and yet he would never forgive himself if he had cracked under merely this.

“What did I do?” he repeated stubbornly, trying to keep his voice at a steady level. A low grunt escaped Adrian’s throat and he turned on his heel abruptly. Nico inched back intensively, but decided to take his chances. “Because in my mind, I did nothing. Nothing. And I’m just trying to understand what is your fucking problem!”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really,” Nico pressed; slightly more confident now that he’d managed to at least get the older man’s attention. “You’re creating the problem. Not me.”

“And  _you…_ ” Adrian started, taking a step closer. “…are either too thoughtless to understand or to… callous too care. And honestly, I don’t know which one is worse!” 

Nico furrowed his brow: “What the fuck do you mean?”

“You know  _exactly_  what I mean.”

Heart was hammering in his chest. No…  _He_   _had chosen not to know… He had refused…_ Yet then and there, looking into Adrian’s eyes, he had no other choice than to accept the truth. He swallowed hard, trying to force to words out of his throat.  _Why was it so fucking difficult?_

“It’s about… Esteban, isn’t it?” he asked. Adrian looked him straight in the eyes with such anger, such… hatred… Nico knew it had to be the issue. A fresh wave of nausea spread over him at the thought; at the realization that Adrian  _knew. He knew. He fucking knew. But how… How on Earth could he know anything?_ What they had done… the events of previous weeks flashed before his eyes, only this time the older German was there as well; standing right above them… observing… judging…  But he had no right to. Adrian had no right to. It was between Nico and Esteban. Solely. “Tell you what, this is none of your business…”

“Then what is, you fucking bastard?” Adrian spat. “You think I don’t know what you did, don’t you? How you used him and left…” _Used and left… Used and left…_ Words repeating themselves in his head like broken record. Echoing. Reaching the darkest depths of his mind. _Used…_ No.

“You know nothing!”

“No, I think I know too much. And I used to consider you as one of my friends... I would have never thought… How hideous… And how dare you look other people in the eye? You’re disgusting, Nico.”

A lie. A sickening lie.

“No…”

Adrian didn’t know anything. Anything at all.

“He’s just a kid…”

It wasn’t like that. He would never use anyone in such… cruel way. Especially not Esteban. Esteban was… someone special; someone he was supposed to be taking care of; someone he was supposed to defend – not to hurt. Not under any circumstances.  _But he had cried, hadn’t he?_  Nico shook his head.

“Yes. And you fucking used him… God… I shouldn’t have… Why would you do something like that?”

“Didn’t…” his voice faltered. _I haven’t done anything. Why can’t you believe me? And, more importantly, why can’t I believe it myself?_

“Didn’t what? What Nico? Try and deny that you haven’t touched the kid. Prove me that I’m wrong. And trust me, I wish I was. Come on, I’m waiting...” Nico didn’t react. Flinched and held his breath, but didn’t utter a single word. Couldn’t. “See? Only… One thing I don’t understand. Why… Just why?”

Nico wished he knew the answer.

 _Why did you touch him? Why didn’t you stop all this nonsense when the time was right? Why… Why did you returned the kisses, the touched and the sweet, loving words? Why did you kissed and touched? Why can’t you fucking sleep at nights?_ “Maybe… maybe, because…”

“Because what?”

Words started escaping his throat, yet he wasn’t sure if it was him talking. His voice sounded foreign – cold; steady and yet somehow broken. “Because… I love him…”

Had he even said those words out loud?

“What?” Adrian stared at him wide-eyed, but Nico didn’t care. Didn’t matter. Not anymore. “What do you mean?”

Nico worried his lip. He shouldn’t had said that. Should had bitten his tongue instead, before it was too late. Why couldn’t he do something right, just this once? “Nothing,” he murmured. “It’s… nothing.”

“Nico…” the voice softer, warmer. Almost… as if it wasn’t accusing anymore… “You wouldn’t say it if it was  _nothing._ Why did you say it? That you…” _love him…_ “Did you mean it?” it was just another trick; just another way to humiliate Nico even more. But this time, he wouldn’t give up so easily.

“It doesn’t matter,” he hissed through gritted teeth. His temper taking over his body and he was already too far gone to resist it. His hands formed into fists, jaw clenched. Anger washing away all the numbness and the pain. A wall. Fortification. The age-old instinct of self-preservation. Adrian noticed the sudden change in his posture and reacted in the most natural way.

“You know what? I don’t believe you…” he hissed. “Bastard. Just a… bastard. That’s what you are.”

Fight fire with fire.

Nico’s eyes darkened. He didn’t even think, only spoke; venom dripping off of each of his words.  “You call _me_ a bastard? Well, at least…” A well-measured stab, right where it would hurt the most. “ _I_ didn’t try to  _kill_  a man!”

Adrian fell silent. The fire inside put out. Only his were eyes glimmering with something Nico couldn’t… or rather didn’t want to understand. “That was unnecessary...” _It was indeed, wasn’t it?_

“Like this entire conversation.”

Nico felt exhausted. He didn’t want to continue arguing. Everything had been said already. Everything and more; much more than he wanted to. He turned around to leave. Not only the bathroom. Just… leave.

“Nico, wait!” Adrian’s hand touched his wrist, but he yanked it away.

“Fuck off!”

***

The evening was chilly. Cold, December wind whistled through deserted alleys and streets of Vienna; filling the air with its ominous music. A cacophony of sights and soughs, howls and long, wailing cries - all conducted by an invincible force; dropping; nearly dying, only to rise again after having found a narrower path - endlessly veering in its strength. Wind. Incomprehensive force of nature; forever ruled by something he couldn’t understand, and yet free in its own, inimitable way – more free than he would ever become…

A shudder ran down Nico’s spine. He wished he hadn’t left his jacket behind.

Adrian’s words echoed in his head. Recurring. Inciting. He could deprive them of their meaning, so they were nothing than mere sounds; void of significance… He had the power to do that. Take the edge off of each of them so they can’t cut any deeper. Blunt. Illusory. But then there was this voice again – cold and sharp like a razor blade – which he could not hold off.

_Bastard… Disgusting…_

He was more than that.  _Or rather had once been..._ No one had given Adrian the right to judge him. Each word that had escaped the older German’s mouth was a lie – spoken in the heat of the moment, while the emotions were running high; reckless. It hadn’t been him speaking – just a mere marionette of aggravation.  _But Adrian knew. How did he knew…_ A fresh wave of anger washed over Nico’s body. There could only be one explanation… An image of both men talking with each other; scheming; reviling…, flashed before his eyes.  _Why do you even care? It’s not like you were expecting something else. Something more…_ But deep down he couldn’t help the feeling of being let down and betrayed. He was angry at the young Mexican for… For what exactly? Deceiving?  _You trusted too much…_ Misleading?  _Your expectations were too high…_ Oh Lord, if he could only let go and stop the tormentous thoughts…

But then he remembered Esteban’s eyes.

Last resort. The tiniest of threads.

The enormous silhouette of Vienna State Opera House appeared before his eyes. Overwhelmingly beautiful and yet dreary - looking down at the mass of fragile, trivial beings with a hint of melancholy. Overcast and forsaken, and yet admired for some strange reason. A front façade illuminated with umpteen lights – glowing; standing out amid gray buildings of Vienna – but there was nothing underneath. Nothing, but ruins of a nineteenth century’s magnificence. Debris hid under a shelter of gold and marble.

_And I used to consider you as one of my friends...._

There had always been something he detested about this city, only he hadn’t had a chance to realize it until this evening. Streets dripping with an almost baroque splendor, luxurious venues, courtliness and the high culture… Futility. Forlorn glances of the passers-by and the omnipresent loneliness – _that_ was the only true face of Vienna. Nico stood amid the crowd, and yet was separated from the outside world at the same time. It was not where he was supposed to be - not this city, not among those people. A feeling of homesickness ripped through his body with force of lightning.

Heartsickness.

He regretted some of the things he’d said. He shouldn’t have let the emotions take over his actions. Speak first, think later – sometimes he hated this attitude of his. Mentioning Adrian’s incident had been indeed… unnecessary. He had chosen a spot where it would hurt the most and decided to go for it. His cheeks heated at the memory. Why would he even say something like that? He knew well that it had been an accident; that Adrian hadn’t meant to hurt that man. He had seen the sorrow in the older German’s eyes. He saw it every day; never disappearing and never ceasing… But there was one thing he regretted saying even more than this…

_Maybe it’s because I love him…_

Nico hugged his arms. It was getting really cold.

It wasn’t love. How could he  _love_  his ex-teammate? How could he _love_ another man? It was impossible. Physically impossible. It had to be something else; something primal; something he wasn’t sure how to name yet, but certainly not  _love…_ But he had said it before, hadn’t he? _Ich liebe dich_ – these words had once escaped his mouth; he could still feel their bitter-sweet taste in the back of his tongue… But… No. It… It was… nothing.

But what if it was because of this _Nothing_ he hadn’t been able to sleep at nights?

If he only could travel back in time and take back what he’d said…

_Damn, I wish I had this jacket…_

It was lying on the settee in the back of the club. Discarded. So close, yet still out of his reach. There was no point in going back though – it was the last thing he wanted to do at the moment. Instead, he kept on marching, without ever looking back. Empty faces and streets with no names. Endless rows of pavement tiles; some of them cracked and ashen. Didn’t matter. Roving; without a destination, but with one goal – _to forget_. Something to distract, something to set his mind at peace. Anything as long as he was moving forward; away from the Albertina Passage.

_Settle the storm that is your mind…_

A gentle sound of footsteps came from afar. Nico wasn’t keen on continuing the argument. Too many venomous words had already been exchanged, no need to take this any further. He wished, no, _prayed,_ for the person to turn out to a complete stranger, but didn’t have the guts to turn around and check. _Maybe if I pretended not to notice, they would just walk by and leave me alone…_ But then he felt hot breath on his neck, the heat radiating from someone else’s body. _Too close… Too fucking close…_

A hand brushed over his forearm.

_Too late – no turning back now._

A whisper made him shudder. “Hello there cutie… what are you doing here? _Alone…_ ” A cut-glass accent; vowels drawn-out and consonants smooth, even with the drunkenness lingering somewhere underneath. Tongue hitting the roof of the mouth ever so gently. He knew the voice. “Why leave so early, _Nico?_ The night’s still young.”

He hated the way she pronounced his name and yet knew he had no reason to. “Just… needed a refreshment. You know, take a walk and breathe. Sober up my mind a bit.”

She didn’t care. Instead, she stood on her tiptoes and ghosted her lips over the tender skin just beneath his ear and whispered:  “I followed you, you know? All the way here…”

Nico knew exactly what her plan was and yet there was a part of him that didn’t care anymore. The excess of emotions boiling up inside of his guts and the overwhelming feeling of tiredness – exhaustion, but not the physical one. No, he could deal with physical pain, but _this_ was something new; something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, and it made him feel like he’d had enough; like he would be able to do anything, _anything_ just not to think. _Nevertheless, shouldn’t he feel guilty? Wasn’t it wrong?_ But…

Why did it even matter? He had nothing more to lose. Why not take the opportunity if he had one?

Maybe it’d make him feel better.

Maybe…

***

Nico entered the nearest stall with Fabienne following right behind. The small interior reeked of bodily fluids and vomit – a smell which would normally make him retch, yet this time it seemed irrelevant. Didn’t care. There was a desperate need in his body; a desire that he  _had_ to fulfill. Everything else, was just an illusion; a distorted reflection of a world which did not matter.

“Hello there, handsome…” A smirk appeared on her face as she locked the door. Nico caught himself replying with something which was meant to be encouraging. Something meaningless. Unimportant.  _Come here, beautiful… Nice…_ Empty words. Lies. Made up to achieve his goal. Nothing more.

Fabienne…

Her eyes glimmered with lust and a wicked satisfaction. Was that what she wanted? Nico doubted if she counted on anything beyond this quick encounter. Not this kind of a girl. Too willing. Too easy. Later on she would come back to her residence in the mountains and greet casually with her filthily rich father. Private teachers and a private tennis court in the backyard. French lessons and quickies with strangers in bathroom stalls. _This_ kind of a girl.

She pressed her hands against his chest and pushed lightly, guiding him to rest his back against the wall. Decisive. The ‘ _I know what I’m doing’ a_ ttitude. A façade. Meant to crumble. Nico traced the curve of her hips… the almost parabolic shape of her waist… the firmness of her breasts. Skin which was smooth beneath the thin fabric of her dress. Tissue soft for the touch and bone underneath. But there was something… something missing… The heat. The closeness of another human being. Her touches felt nice but they were lacking  _the fire._  He missed…

Missed.

The scent of her perfume. The tingle of her hair. It felt so familiar… Her fingertips brushed over the top buttons of her dress. Teasingly. Provocatively. That was not what he wanted - right then, he wasn’t looking for a show. _Just get it over with_. He guided her hands down, to the fly of his jeans. A swift, confident motion. No questions asked. A seductive smile which appeared on her face indicated that she had indeed gotten the hint and this single smile made a dozen of others flash before his eyes.

All the same. They were all the same. Just like clones.

Meaningless. It was all meaningless.

He took a deep breath before their lips met.

Nico closed his eyes and let his body take control over his action. The sensation was purely physical. The closure. The idea of another human body so close to his own. Anticipation. Shared desires. Contact. Two beings separated from one another solely by thin fabrics of their clothing. Friction. He needed more friction. His body was responding in its natural way. Jeans felt too tight. Mind hazy from alcohol intoxication and increasing lack of oxygen.

She tasted of tobacco and red wine.

No connection. No sparkle. No desire.

No Nothing.

And it was this Nothing that he missed the most.

Eventually they parted – both in a desperate need for a breath and to get the things going. This damned smile appeared on her lips all over again. Oh God, how he despised this smile. Mockery and self-confidence. Self-adoration. Artificial. Nico was glad for all the booze flowing through his veins. She got to her knees and worked the fly of his jeans open. A sigh of relief escaped his throat. A shudder of anticipation.

“How eager…”

She commented. Something about his size, how she couldn’t wait, how amazing it would feel… Why did they always feel the need to comment? Nico didn’t answer. He was barely listening to her at all, focusing on the feelings instead. Her hot breath grazing over his semi-erection. So close. Her nose almost touching his pubic hair, tickling, driving him insane. _Count the breaths. Focus on each exhale._ A hand entangled around his length, pumping clumsily, without a rhythm.

_It wasn’t right. He was supposed to be somewhere else…_

The pace increased, progressively becoming more and more erratic as Fabienne was starting to grow impatient.

_It was supposed to be someone else’s hand around his cock…_

Something different. Something gentler, something shyer… Yet responding in a way no one ever could. Lively. Desires matching his own. Giving rather than taking. Lust. Hunger. And much, much more. Teeth gnawing at the bottom lip. Subtle features. Hair silky under his fingertips. And those eyes. So dark. Trusting. Loving…

No. _Nothing_.

A low grunt escaped Nico’s throat when a fist curled around the base of his member and lips touched the very tip. His hips thrust on their own accord, but his eyes remained closed. He didn’t need to see. Didn’t want to. He needed more. He tugged at her hair, encouraging to keep going. It felt so bizarrely under his touch – spoiled by cosmetic agents, too long, lacking this… silkiness. He smoothed it with his fingers. The act was almost subconscious, his body guided solely by the primal instincts while he himself wasn’t even there. His mind drifted off to a different place; a place where he knew he wasn’t supposed to want to be so badly.

Tongue caressing. Cheeks hollowing. Head bobbing. Oh God… So much yet never nearly enough. He knew what he wanted. Speed increasing. The images of tanned skin flashed before his eyes; the presence of Fabienne long forgotten. The unearthy sounds – moans and grunts that seemed like music for his ears. Like the sound of piano, only so much better… The hot breath on his neck while they slept, bodies so close to each other… The smile… The shyness in his voice… The simplest of things. He loved… Yes, _loved_ … And how wrong… how wrong was he to ever doubt that. It couldn’t be over. Not like this. He could still repair what he’d broken. Fix... He could.. _Can_. His breath was turning ragged and shallow. Familiar warmness coiling in the depths of his stomach. No warning. The bond… The connection... One name on his mind, repeating, recurring.

The sweet Nothing.

He came with a broken sob and a realization that he needed, no,  _had to_  and, most importantly,  _wanted to_  make things better. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed :)


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